One Month In Your Shoes
by Master of Fangirling Art
Summary: AU. Chris & Claire get their normal lives upset by a terrific body swap. They'll have to face their biggest struggle so far: live in their sibling's body without telling anyone. A story about PTSD, shame, anguish and... INCEST. Because sometimes, when your whole world seems to fall into pieces, your only chance to survive is to cling on your sibling's body.
1. Meet The Redfields

Welcome to this little story of mine. I know it sounds like a weird thing but I drew the map of their house and I posted it on a special Instagram account. You can find the drawings on the "**masteroffangirlingart**" profile, my profile actually :D A little glance at those might help you with the reading as many times they'll be at home.

See you at the end notes of this chapter., where I'll be a little more specific about the idea behind this.

Hope you'll enjoy! _Buona lettura! _

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**ACT 1 - ANGST AND TORMENT**

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**CHAPTER 1 - Meet the Redfields**

It was such a beautiful morning in Raccoon City, the sky sheer and cloudless and a bright sun had just popped over the trees, warming the chill air, last memory of a late September night. Life was awakening all over the nice residential district with cars starting to fill the streets and some sporadic early morning jogger taking advantage of the not yet crowded sidewalks. Soon those same streets would be full of kids of all ages heading to school. Chris and Claire Redfield were some of those kids.

The Redfield family moved to Raccoon City many years before, so this elegant city was home for them. Their parents were both working for the prestigious pharmaceutical company Umbrella Corporation.

Their father, Robert, was a researcher specialised in the study of neurological consequences of medicines and antitumor treatments, leading a group of other scientists and young trainees. Their mother, Lily Carter Redfield, worked for the accountability sector as an employee. They met over 20 years before on Lily's very first day at work, when Robert was himself a young trainee fresh out of university, whose good grades gained him a job and a lab coat, and whose warm smile and perseverance got him a date with the blonde woman. They fell in love pretty soon and after a couple of years he eventually proposed.

On the verge of his thirties, Robert received from his beloved wife the best news a man could ever get: he was going to be a father as Lily was pregnant with their first son. So there it was, a family had formed.

They lived in Chicago back then, when Chris was born, but as soon as Lily got pregnant again, with a little girl this time, Rob got assigned to the Neurological Research Sector in the Raccoon City Umbrella's newly built facility, and they all moved there as it was pretty easy for Lily to get transferred there too.

Chris was only 2 years old when Claire came into the world, and into the family. He soon took seriously his being an older brother as he was always caring and lovely towards that little newly born blue eyed girl. Unlike many other children may do, he never showed any jealousy, in fact, he would even try to help his parents in taking good care of Claire by handing diapers, holding the feeding bottle, or simply rocking gently the cradle to get her to sleep. So, as they grew up, a strong siblings bond grew up as well. He would always be protective and caring, she would always cheer him up with her joyful laughter and, as she grew older and started to be more aware, she would always have a good word for him and help him deal with his hot-headed nature, but being two years older, it was Chris to put his wisdom at her service more often. Adolescence only strengthened this bond.

That morning Claire had woken up in a good mood and did some stretching in front of the wide window besides her large bed. She got the shutters open and breathed deeply in the morning breeze, a smile cracking on her face. A thud and a low groan coming from the room next to hers signalled that her brother was awake too. Putting her slippers on, she reached the door and threw it open playfully. The sight of Chris, walking like a zombie, with ruffled hair and a sleepy face got her the first laugh of the day.

"Good morning! You got home pretty late, uh?" she said smiling.

A yawn and an eye rub were his reply. Enough to confirm her theory.

"You go first? Or you wanna have breakfast before?" she added pointing at the bathroom door, on the right side of her bedroom's one, with a small wave of the hand.

"You can go first, Claire. I need coffee and carbs before my two neurons wake up too." Chris said returning the smile, despite his slumber-hungry eyes "Good morning, anyway!".

That said, he turned back and headed to the stairs.

It didn't took long for Claire to disengage the bathroom for Chris, after a quick shower, she had only to wear the clothes she had already prepared on her desk's chair and as her only makeup vanity was a little of mascara, just to enhance and highlight the blue of her eyes, she was soon done.

Downstairs, on the left side of the staircase there was the dining room and right after it, towards the back of the house, the kitchen.

There her parents were busy with breakfast and some work-related chatting. She got there just in time to catch her father picking up his black handbag and jacket from the dining room's table.

"Pancakes are waiting darling!" He said pressing a kiss on her cheek. "Mom managed to leave some for you... Chris was pretty sleepy but his hunger seems to know no rest".

Claire laughed blinking at her mother across the other room.

"Uh, today I won't be home for lunch, big day at work!" Robert added catching a banana from the fruit centrepiece and sliding it into his jacket's pocket.

"Big day? Some cool experiments going on or... just boring meetings with moneylenders?" Claire asked turning her head to her Dad from the stool she was sitting on by the kitchen island.

"Cool experiment!" He replied proudly "we're turning on for the first time a new machine we've been working on in the last 14 months! It's supposed to help antitumor drugs molecules into healthy cells and streng-" he stopped, smirking slyly " I'm going full nerd, am I?"

"Just a little enthusiastic, honey" Lily answered, eyes smiling at both of them.

"It sounds really cool actually, Dad!" Chris' deep voice broke in from behind both Claire and Rob.

"Oh, but it _is_ cool! Months of sweat, intuitions, mistakes and enormous funds might just pay back today!" Rob said with a pensive look appearing on his face. After a few moments he added "you can come attend it if you like! We'll be turning it on only this afternoon as the setting procedure is pretty long... you can come over to the lab right after school". He was so proud of his team's work that he wanted to show it to his kids.

Claire and Chris exchanged just a short glance before accepting the invitation.

Assisting to a scientific experiment was far too intriguing for a denial. They were both bit of a nerd after all - science being one of their shared passions - despite their appearances, that might make think of them of nothing more than a jock and a tomboy girl.

Chris in fact was a well-built boy, six feet two tall, with large shoulders and wide chest, and the three days a week gym had given him chiselled chest and abdomen and very strong arms. His eyes were a light hazel brown shade, just like his mother, and his thick short hair was dark brown.

He always had some short beard on his face, just enough to make him appear older than his 18 years, which, combined with a deep warm voice, was much of an advantage when buying cigarettes or liquors as nobody would guess he was actually underage for drinking.

He was a really good-hearted guy, with an impulsive temper but still very polite manners.

Claire was 5 feet 6, a slender figure, with abundant breasts and well-proportioned hips. Her eyes where a sky-blue shade, just like her father, and her hair was auburn just like... well, like a real Redfield. She usually would tie it up in a ponytail, letting just few wild strands of hair fall on the side of her beautiful face.

Despite having a passion for ballet and playing piano, her taste in clothing would make her look like a... tomboy. Not that she couldn't be described as one, in fact she was fond of motorcycles and also rock music (two passions she shared with Chris and that she actually got from him, and that only made them even closer), but she wasn't the kind of girl to fit into a defined label. She liked rock music and yet she would rock the hell out of her body to a _Johann Sebastian Bach_ piece. She liked to dress with just jeans, plain shirts and leather jackets - dressing with cute robes only sometimes when going out with her friends - and walk around with confident deportment, still she was able of the smoothest and most gracious moves while dancing in pink pantyhose and ballerina shoes. Chris once said she has as many facets as a precious diamond.

* * *

Few minutes later, the two siblings where walking down the sidewalk to the bus stop. There they met some of their neighbours and closest friends.

Chris joined a bunch of other guys, not before having pressed his usual little peck on Claire's temple and wished her a good day.

His closest friends were two guys of his same age, Kevin and Carlos, Piers who was one year younger, and Leon who was the same age as Claire but, being Piers' cousin, he started soon hanging out with the latter's older friends.

Claire joined her two best friends Jill and Rebecca and it really took them less than a split of a second to start chatting about... well, whatever three girls would have to say that early in the morning after having stopped texting just few hours before. Basically, guys. One guy in particular: Leon.

Rebecca had a huge crush on him and would always start to hyperventilate if he'd come close. Claire, on her side, was pretty sure to have a little crush on him too but being Leon his brother's friend she'd never consider it to be more than just physical attraction. Also, he was Rebecca's crush first.

"Shouldn't it be illegal to just walk around with those killer eyes?" Rebecca eventually said. If she were a cartoon then her eyes would be heart shaped in that moment. "And that chin cleft... I mean... have you seen it? That's pretty illeg-"

"Oh, stop it Becky!" Jill sighed rolling her eyes, " if we were blind we would still know his face by heart by now, with all your talking about him! Only him! Leon here... Leon there... Leon's this... Leon's that" she mocked laughing.

Rebecca ignored her and just continued to stare, only to end up turning violently her blushed face at Leon's minimal head movement, too shy to risk meeting his gaze.

Claire just smiled at her friends and laughed mentally at both Rebecca for her... being Rebecca, and at Jill for her mocking Becky that way when Claire plainly knew she had a huge crush on Chris and would often peep at his butt, even though Jill would never admit it.

After a short bus ride through the residential area, they arrived at school, ready to start the day.

Claire and her friends' one wouldn't start much well, though. Their first class would be science with that boring teacher Mr Wesker was. Fortunately she really liked science, because with that creepy blonde wearing sunglasses even in classrooms, nobody was allowed to space out as you couldn't tell if he was staring at you or not.

Being eighteen, Chris' last year at high school had just started, nevertheless he was looking forward to what would come next. He was considering multiple chances, not closing any possible door. Going to a good college was the most probable thing, as his grades were pretty good he would manage to easily get access to the best ones. Though he wouldn't choose one far away from home, because he wouldn't like being too far from his family and dearest friends. Raccoon City was a really nice town and he truly enjoyed living there but had no colleges at all. The nearest College with a really good reputation was the prestigious Howard Foster College in Arklay City, just few miles south. Attending that would allow him to be home for the week ends without giving up to a high quality education.

Those were the kind of thoughts Chris was lost in while his history teacher was dispensing tests.

The rest of the morning went pretty smooth for both of them, and they eventually met at the school cafeteria for lunch.

"Hey Chris!" Claire called aloud waving a hand high in the air to catch his attention as he was far ahead in the queue "could you come over please? I need to ask you something..." Claire said as her brother waved back at her. And as he got closer with a slightly concerned look on his face, she added "I thought I had more money in my wallet but it's not enough for lunch, so... could you lend m-".

She hadn't quite the time to end the question that Chris took her by the hand and escorted her to the cafeteria counter and offered her lunch, making her skip the queue.

A little embarrassed, she smiled to Carlos and Kevin, and looked back at Jill and Rebecca still queuing. This was one of the advantages of being Chris's sister: nobody would argue with a queue skipping. Not that Chris was a bully or something, but his big physique would discourage any attempt in fighting. It actually happened few times before that some _real_ bully would come across him while doing their stupid brat things (like threatening "nerds", annoying girls with vulgar comments or simply looking for a fistfight) and he always would've beat the shit out of them standing by bullying victims' side. That gained him a good reputation among all students, that's why everyone would just turn a blind eye on that. Hot-headed and good hearted. That's who Chris Redfield was.

"Do you still want to come to Dad's lab today or did you change your plans?" He asked her while grabbing fruit.

She looked at him like he had just said the dumbest of things "Sure I do! Dad's been working so hard on that thing I'm just curious to watch what it turns out to be!" She replied chuckling "Dad looks so proud of that, I think it would be really nice of us to be there today. And... who knows? Maybe we'd witness the birth of a new standard in cancer fighting!"

Chris smiled warmly, feeling proud for his dad's accomplishments. Claire was totally right, dad would be happy to have his kids by his side on such an important event.

"Leon's holding the seats at that table over there for us, wanna join? There are enough seats for you and your two friends" He said beckoning at a long table across the wide room.

"No thanks Chris, I'll be sitting with the girls at our usual table. Moira, Sheva and Ashley are already there" Claire answered and leaned forward to place a small kiss on his cheek before darting to her table. And by the way, even if the table would have had enough seats for all of them, sitting at the same place as Leon would mean no lunch for Rebecca and lots of eye rolling for Jill. She smiled at the thought of Becky drooling over Leon.

_Girls_. That was something Leon would've said.

* * *

School was finally over and Claire and Chris headed to the Umbrella facility with their mother, who just picked them up.

The access to Rob's lab was granted them by three permits and a welcoming lady who accompanied them through the maze of corridors and glass walls.

Robert was animatedly debating with his colleagues and had just time to acknowledge their presence before he was drawn back. Chris and Claire took a spot in a room that surrounded the whole circular lab like a ring and was separated to it by a wall of really thick crystal-clear glass. They all waited there patiently for the show to begin.

The scientists, including Dr Redfield, were in their same room just few feet away, busy with computers and various engines. In front of them, in the wide lab a weird big white device stood right in the middle.

They could hear the scientists discuss about voltage, frequency, power and some sort of strangely named materials involved in the making of the big machine. Apparently there was a fracture in the crew about some issues, few of them would try one option and others would just disagree. Rob was in the latter group.

Though the siblings couldn't exactly understand the matter, at some point, it happened to be pretty clear that Rob's side overcame the discussion.

"Double up the voltage and triplicate the moscovium dosage, reduce the outcome temperature" Robert started giving orders to his trainees, who would just follow disciplined.

Everyone seemed to know perfectly what to do, what their places were, the tasks they had to carry out.

Everything was ready, everyone was holding their breaths just waiting for Dr Redfield to digit the final inputs. And there he went, last movements before glancing up at the machine waiting for response. It started a slow noise, similar to an ultrasound going higher and higher and just as it was becoming a bit bothering for their ears, it leaped and went completely down.

After few moments of embarrassed silence everyone seemed to blow up in a huge fuss. Claire and Chris looked at each other feeling sorry for their disappointed father, he had put so much effort into this project and watching it just not work was painful even for them. Chris slipped an arm around Claire's shoulders squeezing it gently and she placed her hand upon his instinctively.

It took a while for the whole room to turn quiet again, Robert fought against a couple of his colleagues who decided to change some of the major settings of the machine and implemented the radioactive elements and the voltage even more, but he had to surrender in front of the failure of his previous suggestion and give in.

They started again all the procedure, and everyone was now back to places and tasks.

The machine started its usual annoying sound again, but it escalated more quickly than before to an almost unbearable pitch. Then it happened, really fast. Nobody saw it coming. Not even Dr Redfield. With a massive bang the machine exploded releasing a dazzling intense light, filling completely the room. Everyone was just thrown away.

* * *

Claire could feel her heavy breath have difficulty to come out her chest, her narrow vision was still blurred but slowly widening and a maddening pounding tortured her ears. She turned her head, unable to move anything else - she lost any sensitivity actually - just to meet the sight of her own body laying on the floor beside her. She blinked. Oh, she blinked many times but that was _her_ body lying lifeless on the ground and _her_ face the one she was staring at. Tilting her head back exhausted she closed her eyes, realising what her fate was. She was dead. She was floating somewhere beside her corpse. This was the end of her short life for sure.

_Chris_. Her first thought. If she could see herself she might also see him. She only had to search around. She hoped to see him safe. That's all she wanted. Despite all the effort she put into trying to move she didn't make it. She was unable to move herself, except her head, and yet Chris was nowhere to be found in the small piece of space she could see.

"Chris! CHRIS!... Chris look at me!" She heard those words coming out of somewhere, she wasn't even aware she was calling her brother. It took her a while and few more blinks to understand that she wasn't speaking at all and that the voice was actually her mother's.

"Chris! Chris honey please look at me!" Lily's broken voice continued and Claire felt a couple of hands touching her cheeks and turning her head. There she met her mother's gaze, eyes full of tears and terror looking into hers. She tried to speak, but she was voiceless, nothing came out of her throat. Or at least that's what she heard, because the still roaring pounding wouldn't let her go. She was actually loudly whimpering but she couldn't hear herself yet. The echo of the blast was still in her head. She could see a figure tossing her dead body and calling her, caressing gently her face. A deep sorrow pervaded her. _Chris_. She just hoped he made it. If mom was talking to him he was surely alive, isn't it?

The hands stroked her face a bit, shaking her slightly. "Chris, honey... everything's going to be fine... don't worry" Lily cried, and noticing that the face she was holding didn't watched back at her but insisted to watch on the right side, she added "Chris, don't worry, ok? Claire's gonna be fine too. She's gonna make it..." her voice even more broken and shaken, tears running down her cheeks.

Claire looked back at her mother's face, realizing only in that moment that she was actually addressing at her.

"M-mom..." She stuttered, nothing more than a whisper "Mom... where is Chris?"

Lily stared back confused "Darling you're here, you're fine... don't worry, Chris...".

"Mom..." She said, wincing at the sound of what was supposed to be her voice - she felt it coming out her throat this time - it sounded so strange "Mom I am Claire, where is Chris?"

Lily looked down in complete terror. Her son was raving. She wiped her tears and slid a hand under Chris's neck to help her son sit up. She looked at her right and saw Robert lifting Claire's unconscious body. She was alive, fortunately. They were all slightly injured for the heavy glass had broken in some points and spread splinters all over but causing no severe wounds on anybody. But the blast had been a real bash and it had struck all of them violently.

Lily eased her son up, holding him by his right shoulder and caressing his face with her other hand. "Chris... Darling...".

Claire was about to say again that she wasn't Chris and that her mother must have bumped her head hard but a glance over her body left her shattered. Of course she wouldn't have found her own body right under, because she had clearly seen it laying on the floor, but she expected to see at least some sort of ghost like version of her... _Not_ a huge male body.

She stared at her body completely upset before turning her head back to Lily with a sorrowful gaze "Mom..." dammit her voice was so low and... masculine "Mom what happened to me?".

"Chris, there's been a burst an-" but she was cut off by her son raw rattling voice.

"I AM CLAIRE!" She screamed panting hard and feeling tears running down her cheeks. She reached up to wipe them away just to find her fingertips met with... beard.

"M-mom... what... the _fuck_ happened to me? I am Claire." She cried sobbing hard.

Lily would just stare at his son with a confused face, unable to elaborate what his beloved Chris was saying. Her brain refused to do it. It was too much. Her daughter was unconscious and that alone was enough to hurt her mother's heart, her son was crying and shaking in her arms screaming senseless things. This was too much for her.

A shrill shout pervaded her mind, it was Claire's, she had woken up. Lily turned her head to her husband watching him struggling to keep their wiggling daughter in his arms.

Claire heard the scream too, and as she turned slowly towards it she was met by her own face looking at her in distraught. Terror was all she felt then. Terror was all mirrored in that face, her face, staring back at her.

"What the... fuck..?" She heard the body say, or better, she _saw_ her face and lips move while pronouncing those words using her voice.

Then it all went black.

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**Hello there! Are you new around here? Did this first chapter tickle your fantasy? I hope so. And IF so, I have a thing to tell you, a warning and a reassurance as well: the first chapters are not so well written. I know. I was so unexprerienced back then but I learnt a lot, so if you manage to resist some awful mistakes and bad telling in the first 9 chapters, the storytelling gets better. Never perfect, never totally flawless, but better.**

**By swiping to the next chapter, you do an act of faith in my words. I promise, I'm doing by best to be worth your time!**  
**Love,**  
**a Fangirl**


	2. Twisted Redfield Siblings

**The title of this second chapter is an obvious tribute to a phenomenal duo of writers called _Twisted Redfield Sisters_, that is currently giving us a big juicy tantalizing Incestfield (it's called _Family Portrait_ and I suggest you to check it out!). Their story is one of the biggest reasons that inspired me to write this silly story of mine. So, this chapter is dedicated to both _Xaori _and_ Sofistinha_.**

**A little warning before reading any further: from now on, due to the switch, I'll call the main characters Real Claire and Real Chris, so just imagine a big brawny guy when talking about Real Claire (or just Claire when home and Fake Chris when in public) and a gorgeous delicate red-haired girl when talking about Real Chris (fake Claire). It's... twisted, I know. I just hope the writing won't get too messy because of it XD**

**Enjoy!**

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**CHAPTER 2 - Twisted Redfield Siblings**

Robert Redfield sipped his hot coffee slowly, standing by the door frame of the infirmary's room. That had been a _hell_ of a day. The outburst of that diabolical machine had almost caused a carnage, since the combination of such an enormous amount of radioactive elements with such a high voltage had had a terrific outcome. Two of his trainees were seriously injured, mostly for glass cuts but, also, a bit for radiation's exposure as they were closer than the others to the core of the machine.

Fortunately, the tests had shown no signs of radiations on the other attendees. Nevertheless something horrible had occurred to them too. It took a while for everyone of them to understand what exactly was going on in the aftermath of the tragedy, but once the truth was clear it was... uncanny.

Beyond any comprehension.

Few of the attendees seemed to have just... well... _switched bodies_? Damn, it sounded so ridiculous that it made him frown even more, his pout fell on the ground. What seemed to be just a post-trauma mental confusion and shock in some of them, had conversely proved itself being... something bewilderingly unbelievable.

_They had switched bodies_.

It was just against every neuroscience assuredness!

Two scientists woke up after the blast not recognizing the skin they were in.

Dr Shona Parker was so shattered when she saw herself... _not_ in her usual chocolate shaded skin. The same happened to Dr Angela Miller who was sure to have become daltonic after seeing her hands so dark and thicker. They both were really flustered but, after several minutes of confusion and stuttered answers about their identities, the truth started revealing itself. And it hit hard.

But it wasn't over yet for both him and his wife, because their kids where still laying on the floor unconscious and, once they woke up, they showed the very same symptoms the two scientists had shown. Panic and... identity issues. _Such a euphemism_.

They had been all escorted to the infirmatory and further examination and questions seemed to confirm the sad diagnosis also for Chris and Claire. They. Had. Swapped. Bodies.

They also had to give Claire... well, Chris actually, some sedatives as he did lose his mind when he finally understood he was "_dwelling_" in his sister's body.

Real Claire took it more easily... if crying out aloud would be considered "taking it easy".

His kids reactions somehow confirmed everything, for seeing a sobbing and shaking Chris (well, _his body_) curled on the stretcher in resignation and Claire just going nuts and cursing like a demoniac, was too unnatural to be real.

Lily was shocked too. She wouldn't stop going back and forth between the two stretchers caressing her kids and trying desperately to calm them down, but it was obvious that she was trying to calm herself too.

It was really late in the night when they received the results of all the various medical examinations the doctors had done. Chris and Claire were physically alright, not a single scratch on Claire, just a couple little shallow bruises on Chris. The radiation checking showed no signs of it fortunately. But their mental condition was what worried them the most. They were shocked.

Alongside this still hard to believe body swap, they had just got through a massive explosion and that one alone would have left in shock even the most trained and experienced soldiers.

Doctors agreed that taking the kids back home would have been better for them: a familiar place, like home, would make them feel more at ease and safe.

Rob sat next to his two kids, right between their stretchers and started caressing their hands, talking softly about going home and promising he'd find a way to make up for what had happened, bringing it all back to normality, where Chris was Chris and Claire was Claire.

He fought hard to hide the shiny tears forming in his reddish worn eyes, for he was broken and feeling extremely guilty for all that had occurred. He was the lab chief, therefore responsible of the outcome of the experiment. If that damned machine would've worked well, his would've been the public glory among the scientific community. Since it didn't, his was the liability for that disaster. His beloved kids were suffering because of him. If only he hadn't asked them to come...

* * *

They arrived at home at about 3 a.m. and settled that the following day Lily, Claire and Chris would have stayed home while Rob would've gone back to work to figure out what exactly went wrong and how to make it all reverse.

Real Chris, after all the sedatives, was sleeping tight. His father lifted him from the car and brought him in his room. Luckily Claire's body was pretty light to carry.

Real Claire walked home with her head lowered, unable to look at the body in her father's arms. Her head was heavy with tiredness and slumber and keeping her gaze low would help her deal with the fact that now she was watching the world from her brother's 6 feet 2 height. Both Lily and Rob agreed that the two siblings should have slept in their real rooms to make the awakening less traumatic, thus real Claire just got Chris' body to drop onto her pink bed.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky when Claire opened her eyes. Her gaze fell on her bedside table with her cute pale pink flamingo lamp on it and the streams of sunlight filtering through the big window shutters, projecting constellations of little luminous circles on her soft blanket. She laid back, taking over her surroundings.

Her room. Her shelter. Her... She rubbed her eyes and with a sorrowful sigh she felt a crispy beard under her palms. Just like the day before.

No. She was in her room, of course, but not in her body. No. That hadn't been a dream. It was real. Reality swooped down on her like an avalanche of depressed and distressing feelings.

She sat up and watched her brother's big arms stretching in front of her, responding to her thoughts and commands. It was actually her the one making them move.

She moved aside the blanket and stepped out of bed, instinctively reaching for her slippers just to feel totally dumb when she realized they wouldn't fit her brother's big feet. Therefore, barefoot it was.

She hit her bed corner making her stumble a bit. She wasn't used at all at the different amount of space that big body would occupy.

Once outside her room she stopped, uncertain about what to do next. She ought to go to the bathroom but that would mean...

Shaking her head she turned left instead and stopped again in front of Chris' door. Going in, seeing her body again was something she wasn't prepared to. Better procrastinate it.

She just took the stairs instead. She was hungry. Damn, Chris' body was too hungry!

Once in the kitchen, she found her mother there. They locked eyes for a bit, not saying a single word until Claire sat on a stool and asked if there were some pancakes.

There weren't any, instead Lily offered her some big cocoa muffins she had made the afternoon before, simply sliding the serving tray over the kitchen island's quartz surface. Claire devoured a couple of them greedily and was really surprised when she felt she could eat another two easily. So she did.

Yes, Chris' body had been indeed starving.

She looked at her mother with her mouth still full of downy brown cake and she found her staring with a confounded look on her face. As she had sensed her daughter's inner questioning, Lily said "Claire, it's so weird to see my son move like you do."

* * *

Real Chris was still in bed, the effect of the sedative had finished about half an hour before, nevertheless, he just stood idly in there, awaken and unable to step outside, his mind still clouded. He eventually grew tired of it and vigorously tossed the blankets away.

He wasn't prepared.

He remembered perfectly what had happened the day before, he knew he was in Claire's body but still he wasn't prepared to actually _see_ it. With an exertion he got up, and even if his head was spinning, confused by the perspective change, he managed to step out the door.

He never felt so light in all his life. His new body seemed so petite to him that he had to check his legs when taking the first steps. He went straight to the bathroom, taking a quick glance at his sister's empty room through the open door. He was relieved he didn't meet her. Well, that was not quite exact... he would have been happy to meet Claire. He just wouldn't see his own body ambulate in front of him.

As he passed in front of the bathroom's big mirror, he winced at the reflection. Aware but still not prepared. Again.

He braced himself and, lifting his eyes, he stared. His sister stared back at him. She smiled. He needed that. He needed to see his sister smile again even if she frowned fast and lowered her head. His heart was breaking. _She must be suffering too. _He didn't want it. He didn't want Claire to feel the same as he was feeling in that moment. No matter which body he was in, he would take care of her.

Afterwards he splashed some fresh water on his face, feeling the smooth skin under his fingers.

The sound of flowing water had a "stimulating" effect on his body. Dammit. He looked back at the mirror, Claire was looking at him with a terrified stare.

* * *

Real Claire decided it was about time to go upstairs and meet her brother and all the crap that involved. Once on top of the staircase, she noticed Chris' door was wide open and the room empty. She winced when she saw her... well, him, staring back by the bathroom door. They took their time in just looking at each other, motionless and silent.

Real Chris moved first. He approached her slowly but with purposeful steps, stopping only when he was few inches away from his own body. Real Claire did the rest.

She hugged Chris really tight making him cough and ask desperately for air. She wasn't used to her brother's strength either. Chris had always hugged her softly, she didn't imagine he would actually be able to squeeze her that much. She loosened the grip but didn't let go of him. It felt weird. It felt so fucking weird. But she needed to be hugged, just like the way that tiny slim female body of hers was doing right then.

"Claire" real Chris said, a discomfort look cracking on his face at the sound of his sister's voice coming out of him "Claire... how are you?"

Now a concerned look, eyes scanning his latter face for any sign of... whatever would cross his sister's mind.

Dammit.

He knew his own face pretty well, but he was used to feel emotions _from the inside_ and not fathom them on the outside upon his skin.

He knew Claire's facial expressions too well, he could read her mind most of the times, but now... now the face in front of him was a mystery, a mystery to decipher.

"I... I..." Claire started, her new deep raw voice shaking a bit, as she too wasn't used to hear that "I... Chris... I need to pee." She blushed. Chris noticed. He took her big hand with his gracious one and led Claire into the bathroom.

"I've had the same problem" he said "I know how you feel, Claire. I know it's... _my_ body. But you cannot keep it."

Claire looked at him in despair. She didn't want to look at her brother's intimate parts, she didn't want to touch them or feel anything coming from them, not even peeing relief. She wanted her body back. But she knew she had no choice. Chris was right: she couldn't keep it forever. She nodded at her brother without looking at him and shyly added "can you please go out?".

As he left the bathroom, only after having given her the biggest hug that body would allow him, real Claire approached the toilet. With her eyes closed she grabbed the waistband of her trousers and, deep breath, she pulled them down alongside the boxers and sat, slamming her hard buttocks on it. It took her a few moments before relaxing and being ready.

It was strange. But relieving. She held her breath all the time and didn't open her eyes, she didn't even use the toilet paper as she had no intention to touch her brother's penis. She just waited a bit and then put up again her clothes. Only then she opened again her eyes. She knew the problem was going to recur, but for now she didn't want to think about it. She just washed her brother's face and then left.

She found real Chris waiting in her own real room, on her unmade pink bed. By the look on her own face she attempted to guess that Chris was deep in his thoughts. She sat down next to him, the mattress and soft blankets compressing incredibly under her weight. _So weird_.

"Do you think Dad will fix it?" She asked. It sounded more like a low roaring groan rather than a question, normally that very tone she was using would have sounded light and sweet in the high pitch of her girlish voice.

"I hope so, Claire. This is so crazy..." Real Chris shook his head making the long auburn tendrils rock slightly. He sighed and then reached for Claire's hand, squeezing it, as much as his smaller one could grip his former big hand.

They stared each other in the eye, painful looks on both of their faces. He knew his sister was hurting, he had to do something about it, but what he was going to say would just make her feel worse. But he had to do it. They had to face the reality.

_The faster the better_.

"Claire, I can't tell if Dad's gonna fix this shit, but we must hold on and fight. It's gonna be really hard but we must be strong" he said, noticing the increasing heaviness of his sister's breath. He knew she was going to explode.

"I know that, Chris!" real Claire replied, with a flickering voice "But I am inside your fucking body! And you're in mine! This is so fucked up!" She was breaking down. "Do you know what that means, uh?"

"I know it, Claire!" he raised his voice "I fucking know it! I'm in it just like you are! But at least I try to stay positive! For fuck's sake!".

That happened fast. Their frustration running over them. Their minds were a complete mess and it was really hard to keep calm. Real Claire was on the verge of throwing up as an overwhelming feeling of rage, fear and panic was rising fast inside her, taking a hold of her stomach and squishing it mercilessly.

They both fell silent. There was much to say, but both of them didn't get to find the words to speak their minds.

Claire fought against the urge to cry and repressed her tears. She breathed in deeply and slowly. She recalled all the events from the previous day, the night before, the morning... till she realised that Chris, few minutes before, in the bathroom, said he _had had_ her same problem. And he didn't go to the bathroom after her... that meant that he just did it without thinking twice!

She blushed even more at the thought that Chris had just watched her... down there.

That was the fucking problem. Even if their Dad would have found soon a way to "fix the shit", until then, they should still have to manage to actually live inside their sibling's body and do what they normally do every day, but with the other's body instead.

She shook her head at the _thought_ of having a shower, trying to suppress it.

She took a deep breath and said to herself that it was better being rational as to try clearing things up in her raging mind.

"Ok Chris... So, let's stay positive." She started, in a challenging tone "how about carrying on our lives uh? I mean, taking showers, going to the toilet and basic routine things like that?"

Chris just sighed closing his new pair of blue irises. He leaned back and laid on the mattress, feet still on the floor. He would always be laying down when thinking in his room. Real Claire did the same, aligning her muscled body next to her other own.

"My body is your body now, Claire. I know it's crazy. It freaks me out too" he started after a while "we have no choice, we're trapped in this condition. This is not something everyone goes through... I mean, maybe we are the first ever! This is not something normal siblings would face. But it happened. And it happened to us, Claire. Yet we have to take care of ourselves and of each other too."

He turned towards Claire, staring at _his very own_ hazel eyes and continued "we will get through this together. And if that means that you'll be showering my body... or I will keep yours clean... that's what we'll do. I know... I know it's embarrassing. It'll surely be at the beginning, but it will get easier as soon as we'll get into intimacy with each other's body."

His talking was earnest and direct but he was damn right, again. They had no choice but to live and take care of the body it was given them. They couldn't just stop their hygiene routines!

It'd be really hard.

_Intimacy_. He really used that word. She never thought she would ever use a word like that referring to her own brother.

_Your body is mine. My body is yours now._

She looked at Chris, at her own eyes and simply nodded whispering "let's do this."

They hugged tenderly.

No, the worries weren't all wiped away, she was still fearing the moment she would have to walk in her brother's naked body inside the shower tray, but at least now she had the awareness that it was an inevitable challenge she _had to _overcome. And Chris would face it as well.

* * *

Lily called her children for lunch and the three of them reunited downstairs in the dining room. Few words were spoken. Lily was silent while filling dishes. She was still shocked. Chris and Claire weren't feeling any better though.

"Mommy..." real Claire said.

"Yes Chr-... uhm... Claire..." Lily soon replied, but the mistake she made just remarked the craziness of what had happened.

She started crying pressing a hand on her eyes and letting go of the fork with the other.

The two siblings could hear the crack of their breaking hearts in that very moment. It didn't affect only the two of them but also the rest of the family. Their mother was hurting so bad for them, for the condition they were in, the sorrow they were facing.

She felt the bodies of her two kids hug her from both sides. Chris' strong arms holding both her and Claire's subtle figure. She reached for their faces and caressed them, sobbing quietly. She loved them to death. She never wanted for anything bad to happen to her beloved kids.

"Mom... don't worry. We'll get through this!" real Chris said trying to relent her sobbing "It won't be easy, we know that, but... We'll do it!"

"Chris is right, Mommy!" real Claire soon added "your kids gonna be fine! You raised them strong and _badass_!"

She said that for her mother, for Chris and for herself too. She needed to believe it. She needed to believe they were strong enough to make it through. Because she was the most wrecked.

Lily smiled at them, kissing their faces and holding them closer, a small wet chuckle rising from her and warming up all the room. The problem was far from being solved, but at least she knew her "_badass_" kids weren't giving up.

* * *

**Have you ever watched one of those movies set in American High Schools? I guess you have. Everybody has, at least once in a lifetime.**

**And I guess you've watched also at least one movie about body switches. I can bet my head there's at least one that fuses these two types together. ("Freaky Friday" anybody?)**

**Well, this kind of movies are made for a teenage audience thus it's quite natural that they are heavily fictionalised. But I've always wondered: would a body switch be that fun? How would it feel to be inside someone else's body? What if you are a boy and end up into a girl's body? How would this affect not only your daily routines but also your relationships, friendships, minds?**

**With this story I explored the possible answers. It starts with a surreal assumption and then it analyses what would be the most real, probable things to happen in such eventuality.**

**I won't ask you if you know about Resident Evil and the Redfields siblings because if you're here... you do.**

**Incest. Since I had to take an exam on "the incest in ancient Rome laws" at university (and I loved studying it), I got deeply fascinated by that topic. It's controversial, it's taboo, it's scandalous, it's relatable.**

**Now, mix all the mentioned ingredients and add a very curious and fanciful mind, bake it with a strong passion for English language, and you'll get "One Month In Your Shoes".**

**See you next chapter.**

**Love,**

**a Fangirl**


	3. In Your Shoes

**CHAPTER 3 - In your shoes**

On that tiring first day after the accident, Robert went back home later than usual. The sun had set at least one hour before he reached the front door of his two-storey house. He dragged himself like a zombie, movements slowed down by weariness and depressed thoughts. He grabbed the doorknob and hesitated a little before opening the door. He could almost see what loomed ahead, and his heart ached badly at the thought of it.

He found his family waiting for him, expectant for good news. He frowned. He was going to disappoint them.

He waved at them to follow him in the living room on the right side of the staircase and threw himself on the armchair, pretty exhausted.

When they were all sitting, Chris and Claire on the facing sofa, Lily on the armrest next to him, he took a deep breath, rubbed his tired face and, mustering every ounce of courage, he started speaking.

"What happened yesterday... the blast... was due to an overload of moscovium and its bad interaction with the beryllium crystals used in the catalyst parts. It reacted in a stronger way than expected... I told them... I... _warned them_ not to change the settings but they just wouldn't listen! The machine wasn't settled to contain the energy produced by the combination of _that_ amount of those elements with _that_ high voltage..." he sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead before continuing "fortunately I pushed the team to install a better radiation screen last month and it really absorbed most of the radioactivity... if that screen wasn't... there... we all would be... dead by now" his voice shook a bit and his eyes started watering, the thought of his kids' narrowly avoided death pierced his hurt father's heart.

He cleared his throat hoping it would help wiping his eyes too. "Anyway, we all know what the consequences of the blast are... I've spent all day talking to engineers and other scientists from both the Neuro-research section and the Radium Team from the Arklay City branch. Listen, I don't want to give false hope to anyone here, nobody today told me the process is reversible but nobody said it is impossible either! There's a small chance the joint teamwork might lead to a solution... but it will take time to discover."

He raised his hand to stop any of the question he knew were coming from his beloved audience and kept talking "it's too early to say how long it would take, I can only assure you that a team of over 25 of the most genial minds in the Umbrella Corporation will work on it, including me. We have stopped every other current project to fix what occurred yesterday. Even Dr Miller and Dr Parker are involved. We won't stop until we find a solution. I promise."

The room went silent. What Rob had just told them wasn't much... they weren't sure he was giving them hope or just trying to convince himself he could make up. Still, it was better than nothing.

_It would take time_. That sentence was heavier than all the rest of their father's speech. Their fear had just been confirmed: they would have to deal with that situation for more than just a day.

"There's one more thing I have to say..." Rob started again, hesitating a bit before continuing "what happened... ought to be kept secret. Orders from above."

He looked right in his kids' eyes with a really serious gaze.

_Keeping it secret_.

That was another heavy sentence. Hard to swallow.

Chris and Claire exchanged a slightly startled look and real Claire reached for real Chris' hand and held it tight, careful not to squeeze it too much.

Ok. It would take more than a day, and they wouldn't be talking about it with anyone. Not even their closest friends. This complicated everything. Even more.

"I know this is scary" Rob said getting up from the armchair and kneeling down in front of his kids, cupping their cheeks in his palms "but this... switching thing... is not something to go talking around. I know it's cynical… I mean the Umbrella's head office's reasoning. They are only interested in not ruining the company public image with a scandal. But their "suggestion" is the right one... I mean... uhm..."

"... Who would ever believe us?" real Chris finished his father's sentence, with a stern look on his feminine face "everyone would think either we went crazy or are big liars making a fool of them."

Claire looked away. Chris was right. Again. They had no choice but keeping that awful thing a secret. Not Jill, not Rebecca, not Leon, not a single one of her friends should know that the boy in front of them was actually her and not Chris. Dammit. _That's twisted!_

* * *

Real Claire was laying in her bed, eyes locked to the ceiling reverberating the pale pink glow coming from the flamingo lamp. Her room was imbued in a rosy dim light, the furniture's shapes melting with the walls, dull sparkles of pink light reflecting from the sheer curtain of her closet entrance, timid moonlight filtering from the window, it all looked cosy and calming, but she couldn't sleep.

She wasn't spacing out though, she was actually pretty focused on feeling her heartbeats. They were slow but strong. She laid there with her arms alongside her torso, legs slightly spread open... in short, she was laying like a dead body in a morgue.

Nevertheless, she was alive.

Her heartbeats were there to prove it and were real. Though it was her brother's heart the one she was feeling pounding steady inside her chest (well, actually even the chest wasn't hers), she was alive.

She grinned a bit at the thought that her real heart was beating as well just on the other side of the wall in front of her bed, behind her walk-in closet.

Chris was alive too then. That sudden realisation, commonplace as it actually was, made her widely smile for the first time in the last 24 hours. Chris was safe and sound. His heart was beating too. As long as both of their hearts kept doing their job they were both alive. That's all that mattered.

_Chris is fine_.

She lifted a hand and placed it over her heart, where it indicatively should have been. She winced a bit for she still felt weird in touching those tight pectorals. She felt it, under her palm, the slow powerful pounding.

She didn't move her hand, it raised and lowered along with her breathing but she kept it firm. She closed her eyes as she wasn't still at ease even at just touching her new skin.

She had hugged her brother a million times in her life, she was used to feel his warm touch, yet now it was... different. She felt like she was stealing, taking something that didn't belong to her, doing something wrong - she couldn't really describe it any better - and that sent through her whole figure an uncomfortable quivering.

She was inside that body... a body stranger to her. Not her skin, not her shape, not her gender and still she could feel her own touch. She thought she would get used to it eventually. It was just a matter of time.

She focused again on her heartbeats. They were still there. Same slow pace. It reminded her of the times she and Chris would curl up on the sofa watching a good movie or a documentary and she'd place her head on his comfortable thick shoulder, feeling Chris' blood pumping right under her ear. Those same beats. She smiled. It was like having Chris by her side after all. This was enough to make her feel safe and loved. He was protecting and caring even if he wasn't really there.

Best brother ever.

* * *

She cuddled herself in those heart-warming thoughts for a while, when a sudden thought came out of nowhere like a thunder on a sunny day. "The slippers!"

She'd better have switched the slippers with Chris', because, being the 25th of September, the floor was starting to get too cool to just go around barefoot.

She got up and picked her beautiful hairy fluffy pastel mint green slippers and laughed at the thought of Chris having to wear them. _Too girlish for him._

She left her room and knocked at her brother's door. As she got in, she found Chris in a loose-fitting t-shirt and large shorts. Those were actually his real clothes and looked so oversized _on her _thinner and shorter body.

Real Claire playfully laughed "Hey why aren't you wearing my _amazing_ unicorn _bed suit_, uh?" Remembering perfectly how Chris would wrinkle his nose at her one-piece colourful baggy pyjamas.

He laughed, the first real laugh of the day, and laughed even more when hearing it, because it was like listening to Claire's laughter and he had missed it.

Curling his full lips into a wide smirk he snapped: "no way, Claire! Christopher Redfield is not gonna step into one of those ridiculous things you dare calling _pyjamas_, not even if he _looks_ like a girl who would to."

His eyes fell on the slippers hanging in front of his ex body and widened. _Oh shit_.

Now it was Claire's turn to snap. "You can wear your shirts, Chris, but you would stumble every two steps if you walk around with those big slippers of yours over there!" She said pointing at a pair of dark grey enormous slippers scattered at the foot of his wide bed.

She was the one being damn right now.

Chris's footwear was too big for his new feet to wear. Also, he noticed that real Claire was walking around only in her socks and this wasn't good for her. Smirking, he picked up his pair from the floor and solemnly made the exchange with Claire, who immediately wore them feeling her feet warm up quickly.

_Grey_. What an ugly stupid non-colour it is, she thought.

Real Chris looked at the fluffy pastel pair in his hands, shaking his head, and finally wore them too, under the amused gaze of his sister.

"Well... at least they fit!" He said giggling and, as to prove that, he took few steps towards his desk and back placing even a little jump in the end. They both laughed. They needed that moment of light-heartedness, even if it wasn't meant to last long.

"I think that I, and by _'I' _I actually mean you, by the way" Chris said "_I_ need a shower. You stink, Claire."

Claire was confused. Whose body was he talking about? Was he suggesting he'd soon be slipping out of those baggy clothes and wash her body, her very naked body? One way to discover. She raised her arm a little and sniffed her armpit.

_Ew!_

He was definitely talking about her boyish new body. She frowned.

"It's late..." She sheepishly said but was interrupted by a resolute Chris' stare.

"I know. But tomorrow morning the first thing you'll have to do is a shower." He said. "You cannot stink forever. Being a boy doesn't allow anyone to smell bad" he added with a quiet laugh trying to defuse the increasing uneasiness Claire was showing.

He got closer and tugged that big body in a warm embrace. Still felt totally out of place.

Claire hugged him back, nestling her brother in her wide chest and wrapping him with those mighty arms. She nuzzled her chin on her ex crown and breathed in.

The thought of the inevitable shower, who she managed to set aside during the day, dawned again in her. She wasn't ready for that, it would surely be uncomfortable but... she had no choice. That was for sure and established.

She placed a goodnight kiss on those auburn hair and parted the hug. "Ok, Chris. Goodnight". She turned to walk away but was stopped by Chris gripping her arm.

Real Chris wasn't used to be that short at all, but he would never abandon his habit in giving Claire a goodnight kiss on her forehead. He made her bend down and placed his usual kiss on... well, his own forehead but that wasn't the point.

The real point was that some things wouldn't change. He was Chris after all. His behaviour towards his sister was still his. He would never ever stop caring for her, no matter how shorter or more delicate his new body would be.

Smiling shyly she turned and went back to her room. For the first time ever Chris' forehead kissing didn't have a soothing effect on her. Her worries were stronger. She just wanted to rest and stop her thoughts for the night. She would think about that damned shower the following day.

* * *

**This chapter was pretty short, I know. Originally the first part was meant to be the ending of _Twisted Redfield Siblings_, but I split it to create this "bridge".**

**Next chapter will be pretty... uh... _embarrassing_ for the two siblings and much longer. And it will come out soon!**

**The countdown has started...**


	4. Shower Time

...3 ...2 ...1

Ladies and gentlemen, for the series "How to mess with your readers' minds and get it out (hopefully) alive" a little reminder:

Real Chris/fake Claire = Chris soul in girl body

Real Claire/fake Chris = Claire soul in male body

Now, enjoy. It's shower time!

* * *

**CHAPTER 4 - Shower time**

The alarm rang aloud. A pretentious clarion trill rattling in the chill morning air. It was 7 a.m., maybe a bit too early for him, as he wasn't going to school on that day. Real Chris turned it off, slamming his thin fingers on it until he randomly pressed the right button and laid back again. He hadn't slept well that night. He tossed and turned for a long time before passing out exhausted, as if suddenly his bed had become a carpet of needles. But his mattress had nothing to do with his discomfort. It was his body to be uncomfortable.

He was worried. He was trying his best not to show all of his worries to Claire and hiding them from his parents as well. But truth was, he wasn't sure he could manage what was to come.

He laid there, in the middle of his large bed, arms spread open like a crucified victim, and remembered the previous day, in the bathroom, when he had to pee, how terrified he was, because it implied he had to do it with Claire's...

He huffed out a breath, blowing out of his lips and inhaling deeply right after, repeating it multiple times as to try to deaden some sort of anxiety rising in his lungs.

He remembered how he slid off his clothes trying to keep his eyes locked right in front of him, piercing the bright glass of the opposite window, staring intensely at the rusty leaves of the neighbour's red maple tree, and did the thing.

He felt so uneasy when wiping with toilet paper. He wasn't doing anything wrong, anything rude or disrespectful but yet he felt... dirty doing it.

Dammit, it was his sister's groin he was feeling under his fingertips through the copious layers of soft paper! But what was immensely worst, was that he felt his own touch. He felt his touch coming from... there! He swiftly put his clothes on again and went back to the sink, to wash his hands, hoping water would rinse away the still lingering touch feeling from his fingers. He raised his gaze slowly, meeting Claire's in the mirror. She looked embarrassed and sorry.

Now, still in bed, he had another problem to face. On the previous night he had told Claire she needed a shower. The fact was he also needed one. He perceived how reluctant she was because he was too.

If he felt that horrible by only having to use toilet paper, how would he have felt by having to wash her whole naked body? He might keep his eyes up to the ceiling or even closed but... He still would feel the touch. This was driving him mad.

_There's no choice_.

He got up - _the sooner the better_ \- and left his room for the bathroom. Claire's door was still shut, but a gentle snore came from the inside suggesting she was still there. That was quite funny. He had never heard his own snoring. He pursed his lips into a timid smile, at least it wasn't that bad or too loud!

He got into the bathroom and he just... stomped angrily in front of the sink, grinding his teeth and cursing madly inside his head.

Whoever built that stupid bathroom had had the fucking idea to put the shower right in front of the sink! Which is to say, the huge mirror reflected the whole shower transparent glasses. _Fuck_.

He calmed down. He had to shower, that was for sure. Ok, he thought, eyes clenched it is!

Determined to accomplish such a (normally) simple task as of a shower, he started pulling up his large shirt and tossing it in the laundry basket.

He gulped nervously.

He put down the shorts and there he was, standing in girlish red lace underwear. But the worst was yet to come. He had to unfasten his bra. _His bra_! How ridiculous that sounded!

He reached his back with both of his hands and he tried and he tried... dammit. _What the actual fuck_! He had undone many bras before from his past girlfriends but doing it with his own hands on his own body was a completely different story.

_How do girls manage to even wear it?_

A bit annoyed he had no choice but to pull it off like it was a shirt. He gripped the bra sides and... pulled up. It came off quite easily but he didn't reopen his eyes after. Surely not after having felt his bare breasts bounce. He could feel cool air on it. Damn, he wasn't even touching!

Determined to end this thing as quick as possible, he did the same with his panties and walked gropingly into the shower tray.

Even the water running down his body was uncomfortable, outlining his shape with its slow flowing on his pale skin.

He let hot water slide over his body for a while before catching the shower gel and putting some of it in his sponge. _Fuck_. Wrong sponge. He should have used Claire's. He changed it quickly and, breathing in deeply, he started rubbing his skin. Arms, legs, feet, then again arms, armpits, belly, let's do again the legs, maybe the armpits need another brush, did I already do the arms... Ok the easy parts were done. Stop procrastinating, Christopher. Now it was time to take care of the... intimate ones.

He started from his bottom, rubbing his round buttocks in wide circles, it was pretty easy too, a least until he had to squeeze the sponge in the tight cleft. He was touching his sister's ass!

The thickness of the porous blue piece of synthetic foam was helping. He passed to his back, writhing his arms to reach every spot of it. He then passed to his breasts, the sponge slightly brushing the skin. He could feel everything, from the soft grazing on his underboobs to the light touching on the cleft of his cleavage. Claire's breasts were full and pretty big, enough to suit perfectly her body, but in that moment for Chris they were a torture and a damnation.

He had to stop when he tickled the nipples, to let out the breath he was holding. That was disturbing.

He was a boy, touching his own female tits and feeling every single touch!

He pondered the thought of giving up and just get out. But he had to take good care of Claire's body. If his father's team would've ever found a way to fix the switch, he'd return his sister a well-maintained body.

He collected every ounce of courage and went on, Redfield's typical stubbornness prevailing. He eventually passed the sponge down on his belly and lowered it till he reached the groin and washed it carefully, holding his breath and clenching his teeth.

He had done it. And without even opening the eyes!

It felt dirty. So damn dirty. But he succeeded.

He washed his hair too and was pretty surprised of the big quantity of foam his medium length hair made.

When he turned off the water a little glance told him that the glass of the shower was completely steamy_. Of course it is, you dumbass_! He had kept his eyes shut uselessly for most of the time. Well... nevermind, he had to close them again after all as he had to step out.

He opened the glass door and searched for his bathrobe, well actually Claire's red one, blinded. And there it was, for the second time in less than a minute he addressed at himself as a total dumbass. The robe was nowhere to be found. In fact, Claire had the habit to keep it in her closet as she would always get dressed inside it. He should've checked before.

He was leaning outside the shower dripping wet and when he stretched to get a towel near the sink he stumbled awkwardly. Then it happened.

Trying to regain balance he _had _to open his eyes... and he saw her. Unfortunately, the big mirror was only partially steamy, just in the upper side, so his figure was completely reflected.

He stared for a few moments at that beautiful female nude body standing right in front of him, unable to move. Or to breathe. The curves, the pale skin, the flat belly, the curvy hips, the rosy nipples... it all seemed to be standing there just for his entertainment. He gulped down hard, lost in that vision.

But when his eyes met Claire's in the mirror, he just turned around violently, getting all his densely wet tendrils lashing and sticking to his face. He somehow got that damned towel and wrapped his body in it. A little bit more at ease now that he was covered, he reopened his eyes again and huffed out a sigh.

What was that look on Claire's face? He was sure he'd never seen it before. And what was that feeling rising from his lowest parts? Although he had never experienced that feeling since the body switch, he could easily guess what it actually was. _Arousal_.

That awareness struck him hard, in such an extreme way that any pleasure was thrown away by another well-known feeling. _Shame_.

He turned slowly and, after few more seconds of _complete_ guilty shame, he finally looked back at the mirror. _She_ looked back, her cheeks blushing, her killer blue eyes looking at him in deep embarrassment. He knew that face was hers, but that shame was all his.

He wanted to apologize... of course, Claire wasn't there, Claire would have faced the same problem in a nick of time, she would have seen him naked (God, he wouldn't even think of _her_ being aroused), but it wasn't his fault that he was in her body and that he was a fucking boy, who was fucking attracted by females.

But this one was his sister's. He shouldn't have looked. No, he shouldn't have _stared_. Not that way. It was disgusting! He felt disgust pervading him and he saw it on Claire's face. Behind all that gorgeousness she was judging him. _You pervert!_

He thought he had been disrespectful. Because he stared at the "body", forgetting it was actually Claire's. Only the sight of her face managed to bring him back to reality, reminding him _whose_ boobs he was staring at.

He calmed down to rationalize it.

It was his first shower, his first meeting with her nudity. He knew he had to get used to see it. On second thought, he found himself being even a bit "proud" of his reaction... Shame was a good signal.

Shame meant he respected Claire, her intimacy, her body, her privacy. For a moment he just forgot whose body was that one but, as soon as he saw her face, his being a good brother overcame anything. He looked again at the reflection, hoping to see his sister's relieved face as if she would have corroborated his thoughts with a smile and cheered him up, but he was met only by a worried Claire. _I'm sorry Sis..._

A knocking on the door woke him from his thoughts. Draping another towel clumsily around his drenched hair, he opened the door.

_He_ was there, in the door frame with a perplexed look on _his_ face. His own face.

"Good morning Claire" real Chris said, forcing a smile, hoping she wouldn't read his previous thoughts ghosting on his pretty face.

"Morning Chris... I see you showered..." Claire said in a really low voice.

"Yeah, I needed one too" real Chris replied, putting on again his tough brother mode "are you ready for yours?"

Always straight to the point. Chris wouldn't lose time in useless speech. This was such one of his best qualities, that now was turning at her complete detriment. She secretly wished to somehow skip the shower, even if she knew it wasn't possible. Her brother reminding her her task was bothering. "Do you really wanna know?" she answered.

He allowed her in the bathroom, where real Claire was met by ruffles of steam and the perfume of her shampoo.

"You used my shampoo?" she asked with a half-smile. She appreciated the care.

"Of course! I mean... I don't want your hair to smell like... What is that? White musk."

"Did you use the conditioner too?"

Real Chris blinked a couple of times too much for Claire not to understand he had no idea what she was talking about.

She smiled and added "you know Chris, there's a whole shelf full of skincare and hairstyling products me and Mom use..."

"Well then... you'll have to teach me!" Real Chris smiled and added lovingly "I want to take the best care of your body, Claire!"

Those last words fade into the sudden silence fallen between them.

_He wants to take best care of my body. And he has just showered_.

She found herself wondering how it went for him, and she felt her cheeks starting to burn at the thought of Chris looking at her nudity. What would he have thought of her? This wasn't like going to the beach in her bikini with her friends, this was her being completely naked right under his eyes and his hands. And to make matters even worse all her flaws, her uglinesses, were there in full display. No, nudity was a bad thing under all points of view.

He felt it. He felt her worries, her pain and he wanted to placate them all. Even though he couldn't imagine how bad her bowels were twitching causing her nausea.

"Claire..." he said getting closer and bending down a bit to meet her low gaze, almost losing the towel wrapped around his hair. Real Claire caught the towel before it slipped completely off and wrapped it better around her former head massaging the scalp to help it absorb the water better and faster, attempting to dose properly the force she was putting in it.

"Thank you, Claire" real Chris said standing in front of his ex tall body and feeling his head shaking back and forth under the gentle massage " So... are you ready?" he insisted.

She needed a hug. She just held her ex head and pushed it closer to herself sinking her new one in the humid cotton fabric. Real Chris hugged her back, and slid his thin arms under those big ones, rubbing slowly the wide back. "Don't worry Claire." He said, mouth pressed to his beloved hard gained pectorals.

He could feel his very own heart beating. It was pounding fast. Real Claire was scared. He knew that. But he wouldn't let her down, he would've been there with her to help.

He felt his chest widen as Claire breathed in deeply... She was going to say something.

"Chris... I... I'm scared." She sighed, head still dipped in the towel.

"I know Claire. It ain't easy." real Chris replied "but I'm here to help you. Tell me what scares you..."

She hesitated a bit. "Nudity."

He sighed, tightening his grip around his hefty body and getting even closer. He knew perfectly what she meant. It wasn't _just_ nudity the problem.

He knew she had had boyfriends, and even if the thought wasn't pleasing at all - it would have triggered his brotherly jealousy normally - he suspected she had been naked in front of someone else and had seen other people naked as well. It was _their_ nudity the matter.

"Claire. I was scared too, you know?" He confessed, raising his head to meet her gaze "I've been scared of this shower the whole night. But I believe in what I said yesterday: as it is inevitable, we can only get used to each other's body. I've had a hard time here just few minutes ago, you know?"

Real Claire widened her eyes at the sudden revelation, but Chris seemed determined to show her they were really in this together, even if that would mean stop playing the hero card. "I kept my eyes closed throughout the whole shower, too scared to look down at your body."

She seemed relieved at the thought he hadn't seen her, but he hadn't finished his confession yet. "But it is _unavoidable_ to _feel _your body. You too... you can refuse to shower for the rest of your life, or just keep eyes clenched just like I did, but you'll never escape the feeling of my body being _yours_ now."

His words were serious and clear and were starting to do their effect on his sister. Even if the result of his speech would have been her accepting her fate, this was more of an aloud reasoning to him. He wasn't just convincing Claire to have a shower, he was convincing himself that what had just occurred in the bathroom was somehow alright.

The first step.

He continued "it also happened that my plan to keep eyes closed failed miserably when I almost fell face forward into the sink... I saw you Claire. It was embarrassing, of course. And I was so ashamed. But it was me."

Real Chris would just skip the staring part and all that concerned his arousal. That wouldn't have helped. At all.

"The body you're in... is yours now. Nobody ought to be ashamed of his own body. I know it used to be your brother's - _mine_ \- but now the most important thing is that you may feel at ease inside it, as we have no idea how long it will belong to you, if a week, a month, a year... or forever. I want you - and also myself - to just feel comfortable inside our new skins. Because, Claire..." and here he placed a hand on his own face scraping is long lost beard "we'll be facing many adversities from now on... at school, with our friends, even with our family. But you and I, we must stand. Together. So we better take advantage of this little time we have to stay home and get over at least our... uh... siblings' modesty."

Chris was so insightful and very good with words when it came to help his sister. He would speak with open heart and just find the best way to alleviate her fears. Claire was glad he was her brother.

He was right about the adversities: hard times on the horizon. With him by her side it would have been easier. It was time to start working on the first obstacle and overcome it. So his brother's nude body wouldn't have been a problem anymore.

"Ok, Chris. Let's do this" real Claire nodded convinced, leaning back from the tight hug.

"Striptease time then!" Real Chris said laughing trying to defuse the embarrassment, but that had Claire frowning immediately.

_You three times dumbass!_

He risked spoiling everything he had accomplished with his purposeful speech in less than a split of a second. "I'm kidding Claire... I was just trying to... I'm sorry. I'm an idiot."

"No, you're not. You're right, Chris. It's time to hit that fucking shower" real Claire said right before pulling off her shirt and pulling down her sweatpants. Now she was standing only in her boxers. The last obstacle. Once they'd be gone she'd be naked.

Real Chris stared with an increasing pride showing on his feminine face, fists resting on his hips. It was the first time he saw his barenaked body from the outside and he could help but nod in appreciation.

"What?" His sister muttered, burrowing her brows in confusion and scraping her elbow.

"Uh? Oh... nothing, Claire." He touched his beloved biceps, pinching them lightly, slapped gently his pectorals and added "I'm so proud of myself! I did a great job with all those weights!"

Real Claire rolled her eyes at that _so Chris_-_like_ statement and cleared her throat trying to release tension. She was still hesitating.

"Do you want me to go out?" Real Chris asked in a soft voice, noticing her uneasiness.

"I... I don't know... I mean... were you able to wash your back?" Claire asked, quirking one of her thick eyebrows.

"What? Of course I was!" Chris replied confused, his female voice squealing.

"I just... thought that with these big arms you wouldn't reach your back" Claire said giggling hoarsely.

There she was. His sister. No matter how hard the situation would get for her, every now or then her laughter would pop out. It was relieving for him to hear her laugh, even if it wasn't the one he was used to hear.

"I'll leave you to the shower" Chris said before placing a cheering gentle slap on his hard ex butt. Right before leaving the room he turned back to Claire and implored "just please... don't use that strawberry shampoo on my manly hair!"

* * *

Claire was alone now. Her boxers still on. Chris' words had still an effect on her, accordingly, she was feeling a bit braver. In one continuous movement she just slipped them off and tossed them away with her foot, then walked in the shower and turned on the water. The glass was still steamy so she hadn't to worry about any reflection.

_Feeling at ease in our own skin. In this body. We have to get used to our nude bodies._

She kept repeating those words inside her mind like a mantra. _Yes_, _better start today_. Bracing herself, she looked down on her. On _him_.

She _saw_ him. It felt weird. That strange appendage swinging between her thighs.

_Ok, Claire. __It's not your first one. You've seen things like that before... really closely. It's just a penis_.

Well, it wasn't actually like any she had seen before, its dimensions were... important. Even from her new point of view. But it was a dick after all.

Despite these thoughts, she didn't manage to erase all the shame she was feeling, but it was a beginning at least.

She started washing her body carefully, even her back. Well... Chris was really able to wash his back by himself!

While carrying on those little ministrations on herself, she just kept wondering... _how_ should she properly wash that penis? When all the rest of her body was covered in foam, she tried to pass the sponge over it but it was uncomfortable and it didn't work cleaning it that much. As she was feeling just _slightly_ a bit more at ease, she put some soap on her right hand and, without looking, she went down and started washing. She had to attempt many times before stopping withdrawing her hand.

The touch. She felt the touch. Chris was right, you cannot escape the _feeling_.

She was using only few fingertips to brush it gently but she couldn't avoid feeling a little pleasure at her own touch.

It was awful.

She remembered that... the penis wasn't the only thing to take care of down there. She took some more soap and started doing the same thing to her testicles. _My testicles! That sounds funny._ Her touch went even more delicate and light as she wouldn't discover how does a pain in the balls feel.

The more she brushed the more the pleasant feeling would grow... the more she would feel guilty. She stopped and brought her body under the water jet, rinsing away all the foam.

When she was completely clean, she walked out the shower and right there she fell in the same trap of her brother. She didn't stumble but she had completely forgot about the mirror.

She saw him.

She couldn't see his face as it fell in the steamy part of the mirror due to his height, but all the rest of _him_ was there. Plainly showing. Sculptured abdomen, pectorals, biceps and thick thighs... every single muscle was in the right place making good show of itself.

She struggled against her will but she couldn't help letting her gaze go down, surfing through the scarce dark hairs on his chest and lower belly.

She felt horrible for she liked, she _enjoyed_ what she was looking at. She made haste to cover herself with the biggest towel she could find. Naively, she draped it around her torso too just to laugh a bit when she realized she had no reasons to at all. She had no breasts to cover. That was a little advantage of being a male... You can go around topless and it would just be ok. She lowered the towel to her waist. That little laugh helped her forget those twisted feelings and emotions of just a minute before.

* * *

Real Chris was in his sister's room, still in the towel. He had completely forgot to ask Claire for clothes when he left the bathroom and now he was just roaming and rummaging in her closet trying to find anything. Or at least the underwear.

Damn, Claire would have been a tomboy inside but her closet was the most girlish thing he had ever seen. The entrance was placed in the middle of the wall facing her bed, with a shiny curtain of sheer glimmering plastic pearl strings, like long a see-through veil hanging on the entrance. Right behind it, on the wall covered in black wallpaper with a forest of dark green tropical leaves printed on it, there was a pale pink neon light shaped as the quote "Made in Heaven", both Claire and Chris one of Queen's favourite song.

The clothes were hanging on the right, by both sides of the not so small space. Between the two sectored walls, at the bottom one, there stood a wall wide mirror, making the room appear wider and brighter. The side on the left of the neon quote, was specular to the right one, but without any mirror, and it stored shoes, bags, coats and much more stuff.

He didn't find any underwear in there so he thought it might just be in that big white drawer beside the door. He was right. There he found tons of... girlish underwear. He didn't think his sister would be wearing such... _sexy things_?

The drawer was a triumph of lace, satin, taffeta, sheer cloth and colourful bras. He had no idea what to pick up. He found some black pieces who happened to appear pretty simple and... comfortable, as all those thongs didn't seem to be like that.

Without taking off the towel he wore the panties. But for the bra... He had to. It took him a while to guess the exact way but when he managed to place the cups in position he realised it was a real struggle to hook it up. Maybe if he opened his damned eyes...

He was going to give in as he threw it down, but the memory of his own words made him change his mind. _Get the shit done, Chris._

He opened his eyes and picked up the bra from the floor and then he looked down on himself. Down on her breasts. After a moment of deep uneasiness, he went inside the closet to use the wall-wide mirror that was in it, maybe it would have helped. He saw her again. But this time he forced himself not to look away.

_It's my body now..._

He could've kept repeating those words in his head a million times but it wouldn't have stopped that hot feeling rising again. He was aroused, again. _Claire _is _a woman. She _has _breasts. It's normal I feel this way now. I just need to get _used_ to it. It will take time._ He thought and, trying to ignore the rising heat, he started fighting with the hook again, using the mirror as a help.

"Stupid... Fucking… shitty hook! Why don't you just do your job?! You motherf... SHIT!" He was losing his cool.

"Let me help you Chris" real Claire said stepping in the closet. He didn't hear her coming and winced a bit at the unexpected gruff voice behind him. He stood at that big body through the mirror, standing tall behind his dainty one, as real Claire deftly hooked up the bra.

"Thank you Claire! I will never know how you girls can do it!" Chris said with a smirk. "And I don't even know how you can bear wearing it! It's so uncomfortable!" He added twitching his tiny torso.

"You have to adjust yourself in it, Chris..." Claire replied and lifted her big masculine hands to help him, just to stop abruptly mid air. "Do it yourself Chris... You have to learn and by the way, now, only you know if my tits are in comfort." It sounded weird even to herself saying him to touch some of her most delicate body parts, but somehow, unconsciously, it was a way to... _equalize_ the touching she had done to his penis right before.

Chris felt his face redden. Did his sister just said him to touch her breasts in front of her?

He had to do it now, or she would think he wasn't really believing in what he had said about their bodies. Hesitantly, he reached for his bra and slid slowly a hand under the cloth feeling the softness of _her_ skin. "This way?"

"Yep! And now just... adjust!"

He worked his bosom with small gestures, raising the cup with one hand and palpating the round boob with the other, trying to be as gentler as he could, like if he was touching another woman. Somehow, he was.

When he felt more comfortable, he laid his hands down. He was blushing for sure.

"Feels ok?"

"Yeah pretty much. Thank you Claire."

Now it was time for her to put something on. "Ok, Chris... Now it's my turn. I'm starting to feel chilly."

She wasn't referring to her low parts but apparently that's what Chris thought as he smirked at her slyly.

He gestured her to follow and together they went to his room. Real Claire in nothing more than a towel and real Chris in black lace underwear. There he taught her where to find anything, from boxers and socks to jumpers and jeans and, obviously, all his rock bands t-shirts. She was highly happy to put on boxers again. After picking up few clothes she proposed to get back to her room so she would do the same for him.

As they went back there, real Claire in blue boxers and real Chris still in black lace like two top models on a fashion show, it was time for Chris to pick clothes.

Real Claire pointed at some of the several compartments of her closet.

"For now just know that here you can find the clothes I usually wear at home, over there, there are my _amazing _pyjamas" she said, lengthening the vowels in the word amazing as she knew what silly reaction her brother would have at her _really_ amazing pyjamas. "Socks are in the second drawer, shoes are over there. Oh, and in this hook I usually hang my bathrobe."

That said, she brought her big trained body towards her pink bed and started getting dressed.

* * *

After a while they were both dressed in comfy clothes, laying on a just made bed, side by side.

"How went your shower?" Real Chris asked, breaking the silence.

Real Claire kept her gaze on the ceiling unsure on what to answer. Her brother had been so sincere in the bathroom before, confessing her how his one went. Still, she didn't want to tell him how she touched his dick and how it felt.

"It wasn't easy, Chris." She started "I mean... well... you know. But I made it."

"I'm glad you did, Claire" Chris replied "You know... I was so concerned about dealing with _your _body that I actually didn't really consider what it would mean _for me_ you seeing me naked too. I mean... I was perfectly aware of that but never thought of the real implications." He was starting to feel at ease in talking to his sister about that. He felt it would help them cope. "I only thought of how _you_ would feel dealing with my naked body, but never really thought of how _I _would've dealt with _you_ seeing my nude self."

Claire smiled softly, her brother was definitely the most caring person in the world. Always putting her above his own self. His sincerity was devastating.

Claire was the only person on Earth he could ever be that outspoken with. They were actually talking about their most intimate body parts, their genitals, but still he found it easier than expected.

"You know Chris, for me it was quite the other way around... I was concerned only about seeing your nudity and about you seeing mine. I mean... it's selfish. And I feel horrible for that. I feared your look on my skin... I was so ashamed at the thought that your eyes would see me naked that I just didn't consider the effect that same sight would've had on you" real Claire said sorrowful.

Real Chris stayed silent. _She felt ashamed for his stare on her body_... just like he did in the bathroom only thirty minutes before. Even if she wouldn't know, he somehow had hurt her. He knew, he knew she wouldn't like being watched like that. _He_ was the horrible one!

He then reminded _that_ look... the look he saw on her face when he looked at it in the mirror right after the shameful stare. It was so strange. So unlike her. So new. So... aroused.

He swept away that last thought and went back at her words. She said felt horrible for not considering his feelings_._

_Oh Claire, darling_.

He smiled, turned towards her and smiled again. "Claire you did nothing wrong at all! I challenge any other girl to face what we are facing now with your same strength!"

"But I should've considered your feelings, Chris!"

"Claire... even if I look like you now, _I am_ the big brother! It's _my_ duty to look after you not the contrary" He joked, right before getting serious again and entwining his thin hands with her big ones, focusing to find the right words to say what he meant to.

"I know I am your brother. I'm not supposed to be seeing some parts of you. But here we are, facing this madness. And I know you... I know your insecurities about your body. You had to deal with being seen naked against your will and being seen like that by no one less than your own brother. It's just ok how you reacted, darling. You have to regret nothing and feel ashamed for even less."

Claire smiled tenderly back at him. "Thank you, Chris." She was kinda happy it happened with him... the switch shit. She wouldn't have survived the thought of a stranger having free disposal of her body.

She knew she was safe in Chris' hands. Whatever his hands were now... if his or hers... not that it even mattered since, as entwined as they were now, their hands were as one.

"What about breakfast now?" real Chris asked joyfully.

"Yes! I'm starving! Dammit Chris... your body is insatiable! I'm always so hungry in the morning... and in the afternoon... well, all day". She chuckled, a low warm laughter coming out of her.

"Let's go then. Maybe Mom prepared pancakes even if we're not having school today..." He replied, getting up shaking his still wet long auburn hair with his fingers. "You'll need to teach me how to style them too, Sis".

"Sure, Bro."

They were leaving the room when real Chris hugged his own wide back from behind and candidly said "and by the way, Claire, you have no reasons to be insecure about your body. You have the most beautiful one I've ever seen!"

If he wasn't clinging to his own previous back, he would have noticed how _hard_ his sister blushed under all that beard.

* * *

**We can all sleep tight tonight knowing that the two siblings are clean and perfumed.**

**Don't forget to leave a review, I appreciate feedback beyond what words could describe!**


	5. Hormones

**CHAPTER 5 - HORMONES**

It was Wednesday, they had survived the first challenging showers that same morning and mother and kids were now gathered in the living room.

They had to make a plan. Robert and Lily had agreed that their kids would have better stayed at home for the rest of the week, hence, Claire and Chris had five whole days to prepare for their comeback to school. But there was more than that. They had to prepare to meet again their friends and switch roles. It turned out to be far more complicated than expected, yet none of them had ever thought it'd have been easy!

As Chris was 2 years older than Claire, he was two grades ahead. This means he had 2 years of education more than her. As now it was actually real Claire supposed to walk into her brother's classes, she was dramatically worried she would lower his grades. Especially with maths. She was pretty good at it by herself but she was still 2 years behind in the studying. She might manage to study history, English and other subjects but with maths... She just couldn't learn the equivalent of two whole years of lessons in just five days.

Real Chris' attempts to alleviate those worries were pretty useless this time: she cared about Chris' education too much. His future, the college, depended on his grades. She was thinking this, assuming she would have given him his body back sometimes for sure, but there was no certainty about that. At all. But if they'd never manage to switch again, Claire thought, the problem wouldn't be any more as real Chris would have to go to college in her female body, just two years later than expected. Her own grades as fake Chris weren't important.

Real Chris, on his side, disagreed with her. Her education was most important, too. If it ended up her just skipping those two years and going to college as a boy, she'd have to recover the missing education and fill the gap.

It. Was. A. Hellish. Mess.

They had to compromise. Even though Claire somehow won the dispute putting Chris' sake first. In fact, for now the plan was to use those five days to teach her the strict necessary to confront the maths test fixed on next Monday. The rest could wait.

They also had to prepare for the meeting with their different groups of friends. For the moment they had told their friends they both got a bad flu, this way, being at home was justified and, at the same time, it'd have avoided any of their friends to pay an unwanted visit.

They had to switch, as real Chris would have to stick around with Jill, the helpless talkative Rebecca and the other girls while real Claire had to do the same with those crazy guys her brother's friends were. What if they noticed the difference in their demeanour?

Chris was concerned about his sister hanging with his friends. They were all teenage boys who, when they weren't talking racy about girls, they would act like a bunch of idiots most the time.

Chris himself was kind of an exception in that group, 'cause he was... Chris, but what would she think of him when his friends would just start talking dirty about girls, girls parts and sex with girls? Because that brat of Carlos would definitely talk about it most the time. And Leon... well, despite his angelic face and his naivety halo, he was the absolute master in dirty talking and vulgarity. Only Piers wouldn't talk smutty about girls... but his mouth was full of obscenities about sex just the same. Chris was aware that Claire already knew all of them (as they came often to their house) but she did it as his sister. They always behaved well at her presence. Chris didn't allow any vulgarity in front of her, and sure none of them would ever dare dirty talking to her or being disrespectful.

Real Claire had her own share of worries too. Her friends knew kinda everything of her as they were _really_ close. They knew how she reasoned, _what_ she thought about other people, _who _she liked. They knew some secrets of her that Chris just ignored.

Jill, for example, she was well aware about her _slight_ crush on Leon, and would always tease her about it when Rebecca wasn't listening. If Chris knew that...

Or even worse, they knew about such intimate details (some pretty indecent) about her past that only thinking about them made her blush now.

Jill herself was a problem too. What if real Chris noticed too what was plainly evident to her, that Jill had a huge, incredibly huge, secret crush on him that she wouldn't admit even to herself? That was another whole mess.

At least, she thought to comfort herself, Chris hadn't a girlfriend at the time. _That_ would have _been _very hard. She... knew she didn't like much having... sexual activities with girls. She knew as she had tried. With Moira. Another secret to worry about.

There were also lots of other minor issues. Claire went twice a week at a ballet school. She even had a recital fixed for next Christmas. Her thin body was trained but would Chris be able to dance the same flawless way she did?

And Chris, he went to the gym three times a week! He was kind of addicted to working out. His perfect body required lots of sweat and hard work to be kept that way as all those steroids related jokes were just false. Would Claire keep his pace?

Only their phones had followed their souls in the switch, since the day before, so they could keep chatting with friends. It was a bit of normality for them, even if voice messages were obviously out and the fingers tapping on the smartphones screens weren't their usual. Even typing required a bit of exercise.

They spent the rest of the day talking about how to behave and how to make a good impression of each other. It was pretty fun though, mocking each other gestures and manners. Real Claire spent two whole hours teaching Chris how to walk _at least_ like a girl (if not just like her), to sit without spreading legs like a gorilla, and how to make a good ponytail. Because Claire wore ponytails almost daily.

Accordingly, real Claire had to learn how to walk and move in a lesser feminine way as well.

"I don't sashay like that!" Chris said with a pointed look.

Claire stopped by the tv and rose her arms to the sky, rolling her eyes and huffing.

"How am I supposed to do then?" she groaned.

"I don't know! It comes natural to me… it's my gait! I showed you how to!" Chris exclaimed a bit exasperated "You always say I'm a gorilla, why don't put up a documentary and learn directly from them?!"

He soon repented of his own words.

Fake Chris started to leap around like a real big monkey, with closed fists based on the floor in front of her feet and scratching her head and armpit, crying like a wild beast throughout. With a deft movement she threw away her slippers and, jumped on the sofa, she started beating her chest, drumming alternately her pectorals.

She really looked like a gorilla and, albeit real Chris grimaced in disapproval, not him nor Lily could exempt from sniggering in front of such a scene.

"Better now?" Real Claire joked "or am I still too human to look like you?"

Real Chris got up and threw his delightful body on her, spanking her butt. Soon the playful spank turned into a wild reciprocal tickle and they ended up in a huge tangle of legs, arms and laughter.

Lily called to order her kids only when, wiggling, they risked breaking the black glass of the coffee table.

The afternoon flew just like this, with awkward attempts, some laughs, and lazy conversations on the sofa with their mother. Anyway, it was a very busy day and when it ended, they went to bed pretty exhausted.

* * *

The following morning Claire woke up at the sound of a loud thunder. It was raining and raining hard. It was about 9 a.m. and as she stretched in the bed she thought that she might just go downstairs and make herself a cup of coffee to drink it in bed, wrapped in soft covers like she usually did on rainy days.

Mom was surely gone back to work and Claire would just enjoy a bit of loneliness in her cosy house. She moved blankets aside and... _fuck_.

Morning wood.

_He_ was standing there, between her muscled thighs, erected under her pants.

_Shit_.

She mentally said goodbye to her mug of coffee.

Chris didn't tell her what to do in these cases. He didn't talk about boners at all. What was she supposed to do? Just lay there until her penis would... fall asleep again?

_Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck._

She kept her eyes locked on the bump past her navel and finally decided to try pushing it back to see if it would do any effect. She reached it with her hand and gently started pushing it down. It sent shivers along her whole body.

She wanted to withdraw her hand but she just kept it in place keeping pushing. The feeling of the touch was too pleasant to resist it. She grabbed it.

It lasted less than a second as she swiftly tossed her hand back on the mattress. She was breathing pretty heavy. Damn, that felt good! And dirty.

She clenched her eyes and shook her big bearded head vigorously.

_It's Chris' penis! Washing it is ok, but touching it is not. It's not alright_. _It feels so fucking good but it's not alright at all_.

She looked down and saw that her inappropriate touching had had quite the opposite effect than intended. Her boner was even more evident now. _Shit._

Someone knocked at her door. As she knew Mom and Dad had gone to work, it could only be Chris. She soon covered herself again with blankets and let him in.

He was bent forward a bit and he had a painful look on his - _her_ \- face. It was a mixture of pain, embarrassment and rage. He looked like a devilish version of Claire.

"Good Morning Chr-" real Claire started to say even before she spotted that gorgeous body but was cut off by him.

"Shit, Claire. I need your help! I don't know how to handle this!" real Chris said raising his hand and showing his blood-stained fingers.

Real Claire had to blink twice before noticing the red stain between the legs.

Oh, shit. How could have she forgotten such an important thing?

With all the fuss going on she just forgot she was a woman. And women have periods. And now it was Chris having it. Dammit. That was embarrassing.

By the way real Chris stood up, she knew it was one of those times her period was painful. Sometimes it happened with nothing more than a slight annoying sensation on her belly but some other times, and apparently this was one of those, it happened with most painful womb twitching.

"I'm so sorry Chris" she said getting up and reaching her own suffering body "don't worry I'll teach you this too" she said stroking gently real Chris' head.

She talked softly as she was so sorry for him. So sorry for having forgot. So sorry for her brother having to go through that. She knew it wasn't pleasant at all.

They both went to the bathroom and real Claire went back to her room picking some clean underwear from her drawer. She went back to Chris and found him sitting on the toilet, panties and shorts laying on the floor. He was in big pain, pressing a hand on his lower belly and hissing and huffing desperately.

Claire showed him how to use pads and gave him all the tips that came to her mind. She was embarrassed, and she would have been blushing for sure if her brother wasn't in those bad conditions. She was concerned about him but, at least, it had had a good effect on her erection as it was much less evident. Hopefully, Chris hadn't noticed it.

She brought him back in her room and eased him down on the mattress.

"I'll be right back Chris, I'm going to take some painkillers for you" Claire said whispering while stroking Chris' head again "They will make all the pain fade away. Trust me."

"Ok, Claire" real Chris hissed "it... It hurts so bad..." and he watched her leaving, wondering how do girls survive such a thing every month.

Claire darted to the bathroom again, taking a couple of pills from a blister and put some fresh water in her glass. As she returned to Chris, he swallowed the pills greedily as the pain was nearly unbearable.

"It will make effect in about twenty minutes, Chris."

"So much?"

"Yeah... your empty stomach will speed it up a bit but usually it won't take less than 20 minutes..." she said in a sorrowful tone and she leaned her big body down, next to Chris, and hugged him.

"Massaging this way will help a bit" and she placed her big warm hand on her brother's lower belly and started massaging it in slow circles applying a little pressure. She could feel_ her _body twitching under her palm and almost sense the piercing pain coming from that womb. She watched _her_ body, the thin delicate body curled up next to her, legs folded and clenched, the head resting on her shoulder. And she saw her brother's body too, hers now, welcoming that petite girl on him, rubbing gently the back with the hand she had slipped behind real Chris' head and the other inserted in the curl of that body, massaging. It was such a thing Chris would do.

Now it was her turn to play the protective _older brother_ role, as Chris wasn't prepared to face that. She placed tiny pecks on his forehead. Definitely Chris-like.

They stayed in that position until real Chris started feeling better, the painkillers working their way to his brain.

She felt sorry for not having warned him. She should've seen it coming though! A quick glance at the calendar hanging on the wall upon her desk confirmed her it was indeed the twenty-seventh of the month.

"I'm so sorry Chris" she finally sighed "I should have noticed it was _that_ time of the month again. I should've prepared you."

"Claire, don't even say it! With all we've been through these past days no wonder you forgot it!"

"But Chris, I should have remembered it at least yesterday when we were '_making our plans_'... I... just didn't even slightly think about it!"

"It's not your fault, darling. I didn't think about it either. I mean, I know women get periods... I just didn't really understand I am a woman now... well uh... I _have_ a woman body. It even took me a while to figure out what was that horrible pain that woke me up!"

She smiled and kissed his forehead again and, trying to relent his last remaining pains, she said playfully "well we both forgot about another thing too..."

Yes, she was going to talk with her brother about penises and their weird habit to rise up in the morning and in other situations. Having had to help him deal with menstruation made her feel a lot more at ease with that kind of subjects now.

"You mean... _boners_, right?" real Chris giggled.

"Yeah... you saw it too, uh?" Claire replied sheepishly.

"Yep. I was in big pain but... I couldn't help noticing it anyway." He laughed. "How did you feel?"

"Well... It was unexpected. I woke up and… it was there!"

"And... What did you do?..." He questioned trying to sound neutral.

"I didn't really know what to do... I mean, I tried to push it down but it didn't work."

Chris went pensive a bit till he started again, eyes closed and head still resting on her round shoulder, "so you touched it... did you feel anything?"

He could feel real Claire shifting nervously and her heart racing in her chest. She remained silent. He then raised his head and with one hand palmed her face forcing her to look down.

"Claire, remember is your body now." He said looking deeply at her eyes. His own eyes. Still quite a mystery.

"I know."

"Everything about your body is fine, Claire."

"I know."

He smiled at her and again asked "Did you feel anything?"

"Yes"

She was opening to him. Slowly but she was.

"And what you felt?"

"Pleasure" she answered looking away.

"Don't be ashamed, Claire. I have been in a male body all my life, I know perfectly what it means to live with it, and with a penis. Just like you know what it means to deal with menstrual cramps and blood. It's natural. I know that touching it is pleasant. So fucking pleasant. But it's alright. We are made this way." He said shrugging in the end.

The conversation was getting tough. Chris could talk about sex or anything related to it way more easily than Claire and without any apparent embarrassment. Not even if he was talking about it to his own sister - as long as it would remain general and don't involve_ her_ sex life. Maybe that's because he was a boy, she thought.

But Chris had also this magical power to put her at ease no matter what. They have been living in that condition for a couple of days by then, they were starting to get used to it. They were slowly overcoming mutual shame. Going to the toilet had got much easier for both, even though showers had still a bit too much of shut eyes. But it was getting better. For real.

"I know it's natural, Chris. But..." She hesitated.

"But...?"

"But it shouldn't be alright, right? I mean..."

"Claire it's _yours_."

She sighed. He was right. She was going to say that it was _his_ penis they were talking about, but he was right. It was hers now.

"You can feel free to touch it every time you want without feeling ashamed at all. It would happen you might have to adjust it like I had to do with… _my breasts_ yesterday. Also, you might feel the will to touch it in _other ways_, too. And that would be fine as well."

She widened her eyes. He had said that.

"I can't do that..."

"Why?! Are you listening to me, Claire? It's your body!"

"I know but..." she sighed and seeing how she wasn't going to be right until he kept repeating that now it was her body, she snapped scornfully "So, you saying that you would touch yourself? I mean your new vagina without even blinking?"

That caught him off guard. Dammit. He felt the very same embarrassment she was feeling.

"Well... uh... I don't know... I haven't thought about it yet." He was sincere. He hadn't. But he had to do now as his sister was staring at him and waiting for an answer. He took some time to think and then said "Yes, I would."

They fell silent until Chris shifted up and placed his head at the same level as hers.

"Does it make you feel bad?" He spoke so softly, he didn't want to hurt her "I mean think of me touching my... _this_ body."

She thought about it a bit. "A little, yes."

"I won't do it Claire. I don't want you to feel bad." He said. He didn't even want to touch himself at all, actually. He still had some issues thinking about it.

Claire looked back at him with the sweetest gaze ever of her manly face. He was the best brother. She was the worst sister. He wouldn't mind her touching him-... _herself_ and she just forbid him to do the same, to do what she had done herself before too, to be honest. As she knew for sure that now he felt it was forbidden to him. His sister was above anything else for Chris.

"I don't want you to not... I mean… you can do it, Chris. You're right. It's yours. And if you say you have no problems then I will have no problems as well." real Claire said after a while "I want you to feel good."

His sister was the best he thought. He felt how she cared about him. "I won't Claire. I know it makes you feel bad".

"I said it's ok Chris! You can! It was so selfish of me to feel uneasy about it... But you convinced me. It's natural. It's alright." She hurried saying to make up for her previous selfish rashness.

"Ok Claire. If I'll ever feel like it... I will. I just want you to know that I still don't want to. Actually I think you would feel at ease with your penis far before I would even accept the fact that I don't have one anymore" he said laughing loudly.

How wrong he was. How naive. How much he underestimated the power of hormones!

* * *

It was a strangest feeling. He had a real hard time that day. Feeling blood flooding outside his body was upsetting. He spent the morning going to the bathroom every hour just to check if there was too much of it in the pad.

He wasn't ready for it. That sudden hit of womanhood was freaking him out. He had never experienced anything like that before. The sight of a bleeding vagina was too disturbing for him, not that he stared _directly_ at it, but he saw blood every time. He was so pissed off he wanted to cry, he wanted to smash everything.

Truth was, his hot-headed disposition combined with that twirling amount of female hormones was too much for him to repress. He would just scream if teased - even if it was only his mother asking if he needed help - and then feeling so sorry for it he would just start sobbing.

Periods were horrible. He never saw Claire act like that before, she never had such bad reactions when on her periods. Why was he then? Why was he losing control over himself? What did Claire know about how to deal with hormones that he didn't? Absolutely nothing.

Truth was hormones, disposition and so much accumulated post-traumatic stress were overwhelming him.

At least pain had gone.

"It will get better soon, Chris. Trust me, I know my... that body. It won't take more than three days. The fourth is so easy it doesn't even count!" real Claire tried to comfort him.

"I hope so, Claire. But I'm glad it happened while I'm home at least." Chris replied.

Yes, the condition he was in would've had such explosive implications if he was at school.

He would have killed for a cigarette right now. Since the accident he never smoked again as he thought he didn't have the right to ruin Claire's lungs. She had told that it was ok if he wanted to smoke but he wouldn't do it. He just hoped Claire wasn't feeling the need to let some nicotine in her pretty addicted body and maybe get the bad habit and start smoking once - hopefully - she would have had her body back.

* * *

The weekend went on pretty slow. They studied and spent much time together. Chris felt soon better and by Sunday evening periods were just a memory.

Their father was working even in the weekend, putting as much effort as possible in looking for the hoped solution. Lily had recovered from the initial shock and her jovial nature soon showed up again. Smile returned on her face and that made her kids really happy. Seeing their mother in a good mood just improved theirs too. She eventually started even doing small jokes about her kids' identity swap, and they would all laugh. It was a way to exorcise it.

The Redfields weren't weak people at all. They were natural born fighters. And Lily Carter Redfield was as well.

On that Sunday evening, before going to bed, real Claire approached her brother in the living room. Lily was cleaning the kitchen while poor Robert was already in bed as he was too tired to stay up late, even for some quality family time.

She sat next to him on the sofa opposite the television and waited for the commercial break to start to speak.

"Chris, I was thinking we should swap our bedrooms too".

"Why?" He answered looking away from the big screen and directly into those light hazel eyes.

"As long as we'd been home it was ok, but as we're going again to school tomorrow we should switch. You'll have to wear my clothes and me yours, and we'll both have to get ready in the morning. Going back and forth between our rooms would be messy."

Claire was right. But the idea of not waking up in his room wasn't entertaining him at all.

His room, his vintage rock bands posters, his vinyl albums, his guitar, his old gaming consoles, his collection of videogames, were all that remained him of normality. Of his past self. His boyhood. Waking up in her sister bright room, filled with flamingos, damned unicorns, pink neon quotes in the closet, fluffy things and tons of other girlish stuff would mean losing the last bit of masculinity that surrounded his hot female figure. Still, she was right.

"Ok Claire. I don't really want to do it but it sounds like a most reasonable thing to do."

"I know Chris..." She replied smiling at him and grabbing his hand she said "come with me! I have to show you my other clothes! We have to pick up what you'll be wearing tomorrow."

"I'm watching a movie right now, actually" he said.

It was true, but he'd be a liar if he said it wasn't also an excuse to procrastinate the room swap.

"Yeah sorry" she laughed slapping her forehead in an exaggerated manner "I forgot it! Ok then... I'll wait for it to end!". And that said, she adjusted on the sofa placing her head on Chris shoulder like she was used to, but with switched bodies that position wasn't much comfortable, so she ended up laying on the sofa and resting her big bearded head on his lap, grinning jokingly.

"Uhm... your thighs, I mean _these_ manly thighs down here, are way more a better pillow than those skinny legs... _of ours_". She said pulling a cushion under her head.

He reached that head with his hand and started caressing the beard. How bad he was missing it. He was so proud of his beard! Many other guys of his age would envy it! He had already taught his sister how to trim it so it would remain always the same length. It wasn't much long though, just few millimetres. But he offered to do it for her every time. Of course... that wasn't like _having it_ but at least taking care of it was still better than nothing! He didn't want to let go of his long-coveted beard. It had taken all his adolescence to grow it after all!

Being in Claire's face wasn't that bad too. Her skin was really smooth and pleasant to touch... no, her face was perfect. Simply perfect. It was that ridiculous amount of cosmetics he had to learn to name the real problem. Conditioner, body lotion, hands lotion, face cream, lip balm... He huffed at the thought of all those annoying small bottles. But looking at the bright side... at least she didn't wear any makeup. Because he would have refused to waste hours of his life to splatter his face with… well those coloured creams he didn't know the name.

Mascara, _that _was a problem. Damn, he laughed at himself for even knowing its name. Claire had spent an hour trying to teach him how to apply it without splashing it inside the ball of his eye, just to agree that she either put it on him herself or... none of it at all. He preferred the latter option but he feared his sister would come across and force him to wear it. He smiled again as he pictured a funny scene on his brain.

"Why are you smiling like that Chris? It's a zombies movie! The cop has just died eaten!" Claire laughed hard from his lap. Her growling laughter filled the whole room.

"I was just thinking about something scarier than any zombie apocalypse!" He giggled looking down at her and, with a solemn tone, he whispered "Mascara!"

They both couldn't hold their laughs. Real Claire was actually laughing to tears and rolling on the sofa.

"You... hahaha... you don't... Ohoohoooh… have to..." She was fighting against her laughter to speak "You don't really have to wear it if you don't want to, Chris! I mean... I like how it improves my eyes. that's all, but as they are yours now...". She had to wipe her tears from the side of her head, still laughing hard.

"Improve?! Your eyes are beautiful the way they are Claire!" He told as he calmed his giggling.

She blushed a bit, well, laughing had already reddened her face so it wasn't much obvious. "Thanks, Chris. But believe me, the result is awesome! I love that." And with a smirk Chris didn't like, she added "well... I'm curious to know how mascara would be on _these _eyes!" And pointed at her hazel brown eyes with both her thumbs.

Real Chris stared at her in disbelief. "Don't you dare!"

Again both laughing. Even if he wasn't much sure she was joking.

The movie was over. It was bedtime.

They went upstairs and in Claire's room. They agreed that by that moment they would call that the Girly Room and the other the Man's Cave, to avoid any misunderstanding by saying "his", "hers", "mine", "yours".

Real Claire was sitting on the crimson armchair next to her bed as she had just finished explaining her _closet tour_.

"Wait. What are you doing?" she said serious.

"I am... uh... picking clothes?"

"I can see. But what make you think that shirt would match with those pants?"

Chris sighed, lowering what he was carrying.

"Let me help you with that, Chris." Claire said and walked in the closet picking a pair of dark jeans. "These are much better, I usually wear them with ankle boots, the ones over there."

Chris thanked her and put the clothes on the desk. As he was pretty tired he kissed her goodnight and his sister left the room kissing him back. The following day was going to be a tough day, both thought. Better take some rest.

He looked back at the closet, at everything surrounding him.

We_ have to pick up the clothes_ you'll_ be wearing tomorrow_, she had said. Actually she just entered the closet, started saying what was where and then picked up many pieces, tossing them all on him, storming his brain with dozens of rules, tips, dos and don'ts that apparently girls follow willingly.

He frowned so bad thinking that maybe Claire was turning him into her _sister_.

* * *

**Let me know in the comments what do you think about this fifth chapter (hey, no matter when you are reading it if tomorrow or after years since the publishing! I'm just curious to know!).**

**So... how did our beloved boy manage his first period? Good? Bad? Ew?**

**Let me know!**

**Kisses, beautiful readers! Thank you all for your appreciation! ****Lots of Hearts!**


	6. Back to School

**CHAPTER 6 - Back to school**

Chris and Claire were standing by the front door of their house, facing the street in front of them. The garden, the cobblestone driveway, the trimmed bushes, the autumnal tinted trees, the pale but radiant sun... it all looked beautiful and neat in that first day of October. Even they were just beautiful. All that beauty around them was such a contrast with their inner selves, with the dark mood they were sharing. They were scared. Scared to make a mess of their switched lives. Truth was their lives were already a total fucked up mess.

It was Monday and they were going to hit school again for the first time after the accident. A whole week had passed since that fateful day. They had spent the previous days "training" for that comeback but regardless that, now that they were there, on the front porch, door closed behind them, they were starting to feel nervous.

"Here we are, Claire" real Chris said looking up at her.

"Yeah..." she sighed with a hoarse voice, gaze scanning the street.

"It's gonna be a hard day, darling."

She nodded silently in response.

"Claire, are you ready?" he asked turning towards her.

"Wanna know the truth?" She said rising an eyebrow.

"Yes..."

"I'm not ready at all, Chris. I don't think I'd ever be. I just wish I could go back inside."

"We have the same wish then..." He said, looking warmly at her and squeezing the hand he was holding. She squeezed back, gently.

"I know what you're going to say, Chris. And you're right. Hiding is not an option."

"You know me, Claire." He smiled. Chris Redfield wasn't the kind of guy to hide his face in the sand in front of a problem. No matter how scary, he'd just not run, he would stand and fight.

Real Claire breathed in the chill air deeply and breathed it out loudly. "Stick to the plan?"

"Stick to the plan!"

And, once descended the few wooden steps, they started walking down the alleyway, towards their usual bus stop, holding hands tightly. Unaware of their mother's concerned and moved stare, standing right back the dining room's big window. Lily's heart was leaving the house and her chest along with her kids. That wouldn't have been an easy day neither for her, albeit she had taken a day off to be ready to dash to their school at the minimal call for help, Lily would've remained home holding breath and hoping the plan would just work fluidly. "Good luck, my babies!" she sighed, letting the white curtain fall back on its place.

The "plan" they had settled was plain simple: talk only when necessary, avoid tricky situations and get home alive.

A plan that simple could have only one possible outcome: being fucked up.

* * *

Real Chris could feel her grip tighten as long as they were approaching the bus stop. Another few steps and it would start aching bad. He stopped, forcing that human colossus of his sister to stop as well. They locked eyes and real Claire leaned down placing her forehead on his and her free hand on the back of his head, right under the ponytail.

"I'm scared, Chris."

"I know. I'm scared too. But we're strong. This is our biggest struggle in our lives so far, but I know we're able to fight it back."

Claire smiled and sighed, blowing her toothpaste scented breath on the below gorgeous face.

"I love you, Chris."

"I love you too, Claire."

They would be soon separated as they attended different classes but they'd never be really apart. Their respective hearts would be beating inside the other's chest. They just had to act normally. As normally as the other would.

They glimpsed their friends in the distance and, deep breath, they started up the secret show.

When they parted they were feeling a little stronger. A little more determined to kick that shitty day right in the ass.

They should've imagined that the only asses kicked would have been their own.

* * *

They arrived at the bus stop.

Real Chris soon spotted Jill and Rebecca in that small young crowd and went forward, right after the mandatory kiss that, with accuracy, was left on the temple by those male lips once were his own.

"Hey Claire! So nice to see you... again!" Rebecca shouted, joyfully throwing herself in her friend's arms.

Damn, he wasn't used at being called by his sister's name. At home they all just still called him Chris.

Rebecca looked startled at his eyes. Shit, had she already deduced everything? Girls must have superpowers!

"Claire, you healed completely, right? Or you still contagious?" She said smiling but not concealing a little worry.

"Easy Becky" - yes, Claire said she used to call her friend this way, he thought - "I've totally healed. You can stand by me safely." _Even though I'd like everyone to keep distance today_. He tried a little chuckle. If not to conceal his disguising as Claire, at least to put himself at ease in front of the petite brunette.

"Admit it" Jill intervened, with her typical unperturbed way "you just wanted a week off from that sexy human bore of professor Wesker, uh?"

Real Chris laughed. He knew that freak well as Wesker had been his teacher too in the past, obviously he disagreed about the sexiness but not about the boredom of his monotonous, tedious parlance.

"You got me, Jill! That was my plan all the time" fake Claire blinked.

"Who knows which teacher your brother was escaping from then!" Jill added keeping laughing along.

Real Chris took less than a second to find the answer, if he'd ever had to take a break from a teacher, it would have been of course because of that evil queen Miss Ada Wong was and was going to spell her name when he was interrupted by Rebecca's talking.

"Teachers? Naaaah... if Chris should run from someone it'd be all the girls drooling over him!"

She could've stopped there and that comment would have just gone unnoticed, but she had to be Rebecca, and Rebecca would never keep her tongue at bay, and nudging her friend's arm, she added "... girls like you Jill!"

The other just rolled her eyes and said nothing.

"Why so perplexed, Claire?" Rebecca asked "Oh, come on girl! You know it... Jill's crush is not a secret... well... except for herself!"

So, Jill had a crush on him? Nice. Irrelevant, but nice. He'd never date one of his sister's girl friends. No matter how beautiful she'd be.

"I don't have a crush on your brother. How many other times do I have to say it before you'll leave me alone?" Jill said face forward fake Claire with a bored tone.

"I know, Jill, don't worry" fake Claire said trying to kill the tiff.

Rebecca stared at her friend in disbelief.

They were texting about Jill's crush just the night before! Why wasn't she teasing Jill just like all the other times?

Real Chris somehow sensed her doubts and, trying to stick to the plan, he decided to shut up hoping the girls might soon pass to other matters. He didn't have to wait too long though.

"Oh my God!" Rebecca said, extending that last "_o_" as long as her jaw remained dropped, distorting her features into a funny grimace, looking past her friend.

Curious, real Chris turned and saw... nothing. Absolutely nothing that interesting to justify such an awe. There were just the usual people waiting for the usual bus to pass.

"See what?" He asked puzzled, still wondering.

"That _ASS_" this time she prolonged the "s", turning it into a hiss.

The ass she was referring to was actually Leon's. He had bent down to pick up a hat or something from the ground and his round buttocks were pointing in their direction.

Still nothing interesting, he thought, and looked back at Becky trying to keep his face neutral. She was still staring in total awe, utterly lost in that vision and, if she kept her mouth open that way a little bit longer, a small rivulet of saliva would have appeared for sure.

He laughed internally. He just couldn't believe that Leon's butt would cause such a reaction on that girl.

_Oh come on! __Mine's way better than that!_

He looked at _his _butt, his ex beautiful perfectly shaped butt.

_That's an ass worth the staring, girl!_

His male pride was hurting a little. Just a little. Leon was an undoubtedly good-looking guy, even in Chris' opinion, but when it came to physique there were no comparisons! He himself had the body of an Adonis.

"Nah... come on Becky" he said grimacing "it's not that much of an ass... I've seen better."

"Oh please. You have no taste at all in male body, Claire" she responded, in a mocking manner "just remember _Brad_. I mean... that speaks for itself!" and clapping rhythmically her hands she added "You. Have. No. Taste. At. All."

_Brad?! __Vickers?!_ Did his sister have a crush on that asshole? He hated that guy.

Brad Vickers was one year older than Chris and the latter hated him since, three years before, that bastard huge piece of shit tried to humiliate him at the end of physical education class, in the school's gym locker room, because Chris had taken the defences of a poor guy that had been victimized by that half piece of a bully.

Back then Chris was fifteen and thinner but he succeeded to place a couple of well settled punches on the other's face, hard enough to make Brad slam violently on the lockers. But it was Vickers to almost have the best of him in the end, and he would've devastated him for sure if the other guys didn't intervene. Since that day Chris considered himself as a sworn enemy of Vickers'.

And now it turned out that the precious bloom of his sister was had a crush on that motherfucker? Unacceptable!

He was disgusted. And his disgust was showing plainly on his face.

"C'mon Claire" Jill said looking at the red-haired with an unimpressed gaze "don't do that face! Beck's right. We'll never understand what you saw in that idiot… maybe it was the bastard fashion that attracted you, who knows? and we all know you wish you never dated him, especially after what he did. But you can't deny you liked him… for a while. And, believe me, talking about beauty and butts, compared to Leon... Brad's nothing more than an ant in front of an elephant."

Real Chris had to collect all his self-control (and that was a very hard thing for him to do) not to lose his mind in that moment, on that sidewalk, in front of everybody, cursing the name of that motherfucker.

Not only he had just discovered his _sister had dated_ that big bitch of Vickers, but also that he had done _something_ to her. Apparently something not good. He _had_ to know what. But he just couldn't ask them. Because, being disguised as Claire, he was supposed to know it already. He made up his mind to directly ask his sister later.

* * *

"Sup Chris". "Hey Buddy". "Look who brought his fat ass back to the liviiiiiing! Chris you bitch!"

Real Claire was granted by her brother's friend's strong pats on her. Fortunately Chris' body was pretty thick or she'd just get aching shoulders soon. There were Leon, Piers and Carlos. Only Kevin was missing as he had to hit a different bus to get to school.

"Hey guys, nice to see you too" she giggled, trying to impress the way Chris laughed and talked to his friends.

"How was the flu? Heard that this season one's gonna be pretty tough, uh?" Piers asked.

"I've been worse, man."

"Dude! You missed many things this week!" Carlos started blurting out loud " freaking Wong in a red skirt dude! Man! You should've seen that! And oh... when she bent... _Jesus_! That g-string! Almost came, man. Almost came."

"Carlos, cut the shit!" Leon said rolling his eyes in complete annoyance "stop talking about Wong's ass. You're not talking 'bout anything else since last Wednesday! You spammed it in every fucking group chat we're in! I've had plenty of that!"

"But Leon! Jesus Christ! She was wearing a g-fucking-string! You deaf or gay? - sorry Piers - A thong! And she bent!" Carlos was heating up.

"Come on guys, don't fight upon Miss Wong's back! It's not worth it" fake Chris tried to put an end to the squabble.

"Not worth it?!" Carlos had a sarcastic and upset look on his face "Not worth it! Ha! You say this 'cause you weren't there, dude! Ha! You wish you were, bitch!"

Fake Chris rolled her eyes and... stuck to the plan.

Piers pinched the bridge of his nose to focus and find the patience to speak. "Carlos, we are not saying that_ that _wasn't a good sight, we're-"

"That was heaven, man."

"Call it what you like. We're just complaining about your obsessive talking. And texting. And who knows what else..."

"Oh... I know what else... eh eh..." Carlos winked suggestively at fake Chris "We all know... isn't it, Chris?" and nudged at her side repeatedly.

Real Claire wasn't expecting that. _We know what?_ What was he referring to? Shit. She had to think of something fast or they would read uneasiness on her face. She decided to play for time.

"Do we?" She said winking back.

"Hahahaaaa! Of course we do! Who wouldn't want to hard fuck her?" Carlos said gesturing vehemently making Leon drop the baseball cap he had in hand and curse quietly while picking it from the ground.

"Yep, who wouldn't?" She said back, trying to laugh. It wasn't funny though. She didn't like to hear talking about a woman that vulgarly, evil teacher or not.

"Well, basically no one here, except for me. But I don't think anyone would have a chance." Piers said "You know they say she has an affair with Miss Birkin. I think that's true."

"Even better!" Carlos yelled "good old lesbian sex! Aaaahhhh... That would be a hell of a show! Oooh... man! I'd touch myself to death to such a view!" Again winking at her.

"Still _no_ chances to fuck, dude!" Piers remarked.

"Then we'll jerk off on her again!" Carlos smirked beckoning at fake Chris "or we can hope to have the same blessing of a hot wet dream Chris over here had!"

_Stick to the plan! Stick to the plan!_

Chris had warned her saying that she might have found Carlos "a bit of a dirty mouth", yet she didn't expect to be talking about his brother having wet dreams or masturbating to his teacher. That was sick.

Hopefully, the bus would pass soon.

* * *

Real Claire was sitting at her brother's usual place in Maths class, thrumming her foot nervously on the ground. She had studied like a mad to prepare for the upcoming test. She could feel her heart racing and tiniest pearls of sweat popped up all over her forehead. She wiped it with the back of her hand, just in time to see professor Wong leaving the test sheet on her desk.

_Here we go._

She looked at all the questions and exercises. A couple of them were pretty simple, another was surely harder, the last two were... what were they? She had no idea.

She put maximum effort in doing it and tried to recall all the explanations Chris had given her but she wasn't getting much. The sheet she was doing the calculations was full of erasures and it seemed to her that nothing of what she was scribbling was anyhow related to magical planet of Mathematics. The more time passed by, the more discouragement would rise up in her for not having been able to do the test well, despite all of her brother's effort into explain her logarithms. Her hands were shaking and she felt her eyes fill up with tears at the thought of her miserable failure.

The bell rang.

She gave back the answer sheets to Professor Wong and leaned despondently back in the chair. Her head was aching and her heart was falling apart. She had surely made a mess. She had ruined her brother's maths grades. For sure.

Fake Claire, on her side, had to deal with remembering his sister's classmates' names. Of course Claire had taught him all of them, but nervous as he was, many times during the breaks between classes periods he ended up not remembering how to call a girl that his sister had been knowing for years for sure. He walked the corridors with his head low, faking to read something on his phone but he couldn't avoid those annoying girls that attended Claire's same ballet school. Their names? Completely forgotten.

Fortunately, the following lessons went smoother for both of the Redfields. They managed to talk only if asked and not inspire too many doubts.

* * *

"You ok, Chris?" Piers asked while queuing at the cafeteria "You look exhausted man!"

"I'm fine, thanks" fake Chris lied.

"You ain't talked much though."

"I'm just... uh... A bit worried about the maths test. I mean I hadn't the chance to study that much last week… because of the flu, you know..."

"Nah... I'm sure you did great! I know I haven't read it but Kevin said it wasn't that difficult... and even if it was, you're one of the best in your class! Look at your grades!"

Fake Chris smiled to reassure Piers _she_ was alright, but inside she only felt worse. The test had been so fucking hard to her!

As Piers started talking with some random dude, fake Chris felt a finger tapping on her shoulder.

"You were weird even before the test, man. You sure you ok?" Leon asked with a serious face.

Claire knew that Leon, even if was two years younger than Chris, had grown pretty close to him. He looked up at Chris. Her brother told her that once Leon said he considered him like the older brother he never had. Obviously he was concerned.

"I'm fine Leon" she faked a smile "I just felt unprepared for the test, unlike I wished I was, to be honest."

"I'm not talking about only this morning, Chris. You've been weird all these past days. I can show you the chats!"

Leon didn't know that the Chris he had been chatting with wasn't the one he was talking to. Because of the phone switch, during the past week, while they were home, him and all the other guys of the gang had texted the real Chris. A Chris inside a girl body with menstruation going on. Claire had actually no idea what they talked about. One thing for sure: he didn't say a word about the accident.

"I got pretty sick... I'm still in the aftermath. I'll recover soon."

* * *

Real Chris entered the cafeteria with the girls and immediately spotted _fake_ Chris. He was worried. He wanted to ask Claire how she was doing. He might have texted her. He wanted to hug her though. But he had to stay focused on keeping playing his role. Even if real Claire wouldn't have thought twice about jumping on his back and hugging him from behind in the middle of the crowded room, he preferred not to interfere in her doing. He feared he'd make her upset. He also feared that being close to her might make someone elicit the differences and reveal the truth, standing up and shouting it in the middle of the room.

Silly paranoid fears.

After a while, they were all sitting in distant tables having their lunches with their friends. They just kept glancing at each other all the time, this making them feel a little better. A little closer. But it caused also few girls at the fake Claire's table to start wondering _what_ fake Chris had much interest to glance at from the distance.

"You seeing it?" Ashley asked first.

"Seeing what?" Sheva said, being the only one without food in her mouth.

"Chris." Ashley said "He is looking at us!"

"And so what?"

"He's been doing it since he sat down… I think… I think he has set his sights on someone." she said smirking slyly.

"You seeing things, Ashley." Sheva replied waving her fork in the air as to wipe away that silly concept.

_Real_ Chris was listening carefully at the conversation, being careful to keep his beautiful blue eyes on his food, avoiding his sister's from that point on.

"You say this because you're giving your back at his table, Sheva! You can't see him, but I do. He is watching repeatedly at us!" Ashley insisted.

"It costs me to admit it but..." Moira intervened, covering her full mouth with a hand "Ashley is right. I noticed it too. And he is looking right at this table! It's unequivocal!"

"Ok. Claire!" Rebecca jolly voice interrupted "spill the beans!"

Real Chris looked up speechless. What did that mean?

"Yes, Claire! Speak!" Ashley said pinching his arm.

"W-what? What do you mean?" He was confused and starting to panic.

"You know it! You're his sister! You surely know if he's interested in anyone at this table! And don't you dare say he's just glancing at you, we don't believe it. He is looking too much, too often, too intense to be just checking if his sister is having her veggies!" Rebecca said and, putting up her widest smile, she added "Spill the fucking beans, Claire!"

Damned Rebecca. Real Claire adored her. She said she is the nicest person. But now she was just annoying and putting him in a bad position. Stick... to the plan...

"Yeah! Becky's right!". "Come on Claire!".

Fake Claire looked at them for a while unable to process anything credible to say. He just couldn't pick a random name and say fake Chris was looking at that person. Best option: act dumb.

"I have no idea what you're talking about" he said, returning his attention to his food.

Oldest sentence ever.

"HA! YOU KNOW IT!" Rebecca shouted pointing her index finger straight at her friend. She knew Claire's face too much not to spot the truth on it, even if weren't actually Claire's the thoughts showing.

_Why doesn't she just shut the fuck up_?

"Girls. Chris is not doing what you think..." he started, struggling to muster a good excuse, before hesitating a bit as he had had a flash of genius "…maybe he's looking at us because _some of his friends_ is telling him to do so..."

They awed loudly almost in unison. Then it was clear for all of them: he might be checking on a girl for one of the guys.

"So... you telling that it's one of Chris' friends to have set his sights on a girl, right?" Sheva asked.

Real Chris nodded in response.

"And you're telling this because you know it for sure? Did Chris tell you anything? Did he say the name?" Rebecca pressed.

_Such a pain in the ass that girl is._

"No he didn't say anything."

"So this is your supposition then?"

"Well... uh..."

"You might be saying that because you know that it _is_ Chris the interested one... maybe he told you but forced you to keep the secret... It makes sense..."

_Oh stop it you Sherlock of my ass!_

"OOOH! I just hope it's not Jill!" Ashley yelled laughing sarcastically, blonde eyebrows jumping up and disappearing under her golden bang "or Chris would have a hard time to make her realize he likes her, emotionally retarded as she is!"

Jill stuck out her tongue and raised a middle finger looking at Ashley in disdain. The other girls laughed, even Rebecca giggled a little. Except for real Chris. He was annoyed.

"Just kidding Jill" Ashley said in a fake sorry but playful mode, bending her head on one side and shrugging mockingly "anyway, whoever Chris may be looking at, lucky her!"

Many nods of approval, even Moira admitted that Chris was really easy on the eyes. And Moira usually gave zero fucks about boys.

"Yep! If I knew Chris would be interested in me I wouldn't think twice about throwing my panties down and myself in his sexy arms..." Sheva added clicking her fingers in the air.

"... And abs... And shoulders... And pectorals... everything!" Ashley added.

Damn. Those girls were talking about how thirsty they were of _Chris_ right in front of what they supposed was actually _Claire_.

Even if hearing girls talking smutty was amusing... _what a fucking relationship they have with Claire to talk like that of her brother in front of her?_

His boy friends were not allowed to talk to him about his sister the same way those horny girls were doing! At all!

While thinking that, he saw fake Chris rise from his seat and coming towards him.

As fake Chris approached, the table fell silent. Then the tall boy bent down next to fake Claire and asked how her morning was in the sweetest voice. And fake Claire would just answer putting on a wide smile and talking softly. It was just a short talk, few words, but they needed it. They needed to be close even for just a bit. To see that the other was fine.

Fake Chris stood up and said something about catching up later, then turned his attention to the rest of the table and said goodbye to the girls. Leaving all of them wandering which one in particular he was waving at.

When his sister left, real Chris frowned internally, sorrow surfacing within himself, knowing by then for sure that Claire was deeply hurting and that her morning had been a nightmare.

* * *

In the afternoon they had only other two more classes to attend and then that hard day would be over. It was horrible. They felt both terrible, always trying to act cool and avoid difficult questions and those tricky situations mentioned in the plan. But they couldn't skip everything. More than once they'd ended up caught in uncomfortable positions, answers to give, things they didn't know existed to remember. The final bell ring was quite a relief. Even if it wasn't over yet: they had to face the whole bus ride. It seemed to never end.

When they arrived at their bus stop, quick waving at their friends, they headed home almost running. They soon locked hands. They were wrecked. Real Claire was broken. Real Chris was exhausted.

* * *

Once home, before getting into the safety of their rooms, they had to face their mother's storming questions about their day and, as they didn't want to give her more worries, they only told it went well even if pretty tough.

Real Claire threw herself on the bed in the Man's Cave, face down. Real Chris did the same in the Girly Room. They stayed that way for a while but after being separated all day, they needed to spend some time together. It was Chris the first one to get up.

He knocked at his old wooden door and waited for Claire to say to come in. He waited a little. No answers. He waited more until he was starting to doubt his sister was still inside. Worried, he opened the door and found that big body laying down, face sunk in the pillows, back rising frantically. His sister was crying.

He climbed hastily on bed next to her and, almost laying on that bulk of muscles, hugged her tight. He murmured sweet words to her ear, caressed her hair, kissed her head, uselessly. She wouldn't stop. Not that what he was doing wasn't right, it always worked in the past, but Claire wanted to hear those same words from her brother's voice, feel his brawny body cuddle her, wrap her, his soft lips nuzzle in her hair. Not just her own girl voice, not her own hands, not her lips. As far as she was concerned, those things were stranger's.

She didn't recognise her brother in that body, in that voice. She wanted Chris back. She needed him more than ever.

But he was there. She knew that. His soul was zero inches away. She knew it was her brother holding her. He was close and caring. She was happy for that. But she was missing the physical part of him. The one she needed in that moment. Because feeling his touch had always had on her the first effect to relent her pains, preparing her to receive the wise words he always had.

"I miss you, Chris."

"Oh, I miss you too, Claire."

Somehow it was similar to him. He missed his old body too. With it he felt stronger, he felt he could really protect her from anything. In this skinny one he felt he wasn't enough. Not enough tall or wide to embrace her fully, not enough strong to carry her.

This body was perfect only for Claire, because she didn't need to be physically strong to be a real force of nature. She didn't need a deep voice to be heard and respected by people. In this body he was lacking his weapons. He had only words. Only his love. And he feared it wasn't enough for her.

He managed to make her turn, face up. Just like that morning he rested his forehead on hers, this time being his the head hovering on, tendrils of auburn hair brushing his old sorrowful wet face. They stayed like that, just like that. Holding hands and locking heads.

"I wish I could fix it up" real Chris whispered.

"You couldn't."

"I know, but I wish."

Her breath was shaking just like the rest of her body, he could feel it on his cheeks and lips.

"I wish I could do more for you, Claire."

"You couldn't."

She was hurting so bad. Shaking more and more. She started panting hard and crying even louder. Clenching fists around her brother's wrists.

She was having a panic attack. A bad one.

She had never experienced panic attacks before. It felt awful.

She started raving, screaming that she had made a mess with the maths test, she had ruined his life, she had done so many mistakes with people during the day that now everyone would be thinking Chris Redfield was crazy or numb, that she was going mad and wasn't able to take care of him as she knew he was hurting as well, and that she just couldn't help it as she was losing control and surely going to die as her heart was pounding too fast and her lungs were shrinking so bad that her ribcage was surely going to collapse.

She screamed all those things in a single long heartfelt sentence. Even if real Chris was worried, he couldn't help feeling his heart melt as most of his sister's worries were about him.

The screams had attracted Lily's attention, that got in and tried to calm down her daughter. Lily had lots of sweet words for her and her gentle manners surely helped put Claire at ease again. It took a while but in the end the panic attack passed and her breath and heartbeats became steady again.

Chris offered to stay with Claire as Lily had to return to the kitchen to finish preparing the dinner.

"Claire..." real Chris said caressing her through the bearded cheeks.

"Chris... I don't want to go to school tomorrow" she said dispirited, but before he could speak she added "if it wasn't that it's about you, your career, I would never go back to school again!"

"You cannot spend the rest of your life at home, after all."

"Why do you talk like that uh?!" She started sobbing again and Chris caressed her more "why do you say it will be like this forever?"

"I don't think that... I hope it won't be like that. But we have to consider the chance that we might never get back to normality again. We must be prepared to anything might come. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, you know?"

Claire glared at him "... and spend God only knows how many days pretending to be someone we're not? Maybe for the rest of our lives? Me trying to be you and you trying to act like a woman?"

She was right. She knew it was her time to speak. So she did. "Do you want to be addressed as a woman forever, when you know you are a man? Do you want to wear clothes you don't like forever? Uh?"

She was unstoppable now, she spitted out some of the fears and worries that had been lingering in her pained mind for days "Would you have children?... Would you give birth? Uh, Chris?! You had problems with fucking periods how would you even manage pregnancy? And I... I don't want to be a man. I am a _woman_. I want that back. I want my life back! I don't want to be you! I AM CLAIRE!"

Chris had no idea what to say. Claire was _fucking right_. He had to help her, he wanted it so bad. He could die for his sister. But he was helpless just like her. There was nothing he could say or do. Their genders would remain swapped anyways.

He stood in silence, leaning aside and resting his heavy head on the pillow, downhearted.

For the first time in all his life he felt useless. For the first time he felt weak. For the first time he felt lost. For the first time he felt he couldn't be anymore the protective heroic older brother Claire deserved.

* * *

**Poor Chris. Am I the only one that wants to hug him so bad?**

**They are holding on pretty bravely but… the first day of October isn't over yet :D**


	7. Dancing In Circles

A little reminder, in this chapter, another floor of their house will be explored. I tried to do my best to describe it, but you can find the drawing on my Instagram **"masteroffangirlingart"**.

Enjoy!

* * *

**CHAPTER 7 - DANCING IN CIRCLES**

Chris and Claire were still laying on bed, side by side, mulling over those last hurtful words of hers. They were motionless, completely still, just like their lives were now meant to be, when a sudden rumbling noise rose closer and louder like a tempest approaching a small ship in the vastity of the ocean.

Their Dad broke into Man's Cave with such an impetus that made both of them wince and jump upright sitting. He was in deep excitement and he was panting like he had run a whole marathon.

"Chris... Claire... we... t-today..." He barely spelled while trying to catch some air, he had to hold his aching side and grip on his own knee to keep balance.

The confused looks on his children faces convinced him that he needed to breathe a bit before speaking again. What he was going to say was too important.

"I've been at Arklay City today, I've spent all day at the Quantic Engineering Research lab with a couple of neuroscientists and... together we laid out a formula that might work to reverse the psycho-cognitive transmigration. We did the calculations four times... it might work! I won't bother you with the details but when we processed it in that astonishing _Quantico Simulator_ they have... it just worked! …It worked! Just to be sure, we even tried to simulate the accident, virtually recreating the same condition that infernal machine had... The results were just the same: transmutation! Explosion, neutrinos leak and transmutation! Just what happened! This means that the simulator is right! It might work!"

He spoke hastily but his kids seemed to be understanding his words.

"You sure Dad?" real Claire asked, voice just a wet leaping whisper.

"Yes darling!" He beamed at her.

"You said it _might_ work... why?" Chris questioned remaining grounded.

Robert became serious. What he had told his kids was only half of what he had to say.

"I said that because the formula worked _on the simulator_. It showed that the calculus is correct and that the procedure we created would work if installed in a proper machinery. The matter is... the technology involved... just doesn't exists. Not yet at least. We have to create it. And that's the hardest part. We have to create a machine able to transfer neurological data from a brain to another without damaging the organs and without losing anything in the making. The current neurological technologies aren't able to extrapolate anything from brain cells."

All that talking about data and organs made Claire feel horrible. It made her feel she was just a biological mass of thinking cells. No heart, no emotions, no soul.

As if he had read her mind, her father continued.

"I mean, not only your consciousness has been transferred, but also all of your memories, otherwise you'll be living the other's life without being aware of the switch, as the memories would give you the impression of having always been in that body. But you know you are switched instead, and you cannot recall anything from the other's past, right?" After a simultaneous nod of his kids, he continued "this means we have to extrapolate every single data from your brain and reinstall it in another. I... I don't want you to think there's no hope neither I want to deceive you giving false hopes. But this is a matter of creating something able to detect _souls_, handle them and channel them back into a living body. It's almost… mystical, you know? Kids, it's way more complicated than I told you, but trust me it would be the exact same thing that happened in the outburst, only difference: it would happen in a controlled and safe environment. We only have to work on finding the technology. It will take some time... But I'm hopeful. We did it pretty fast with the formula... and darling you should see it! The most difficult one I've ever met."

Claire felt Chris rubbing her broad back. She knew he was thinking about her during all her father's speech. Those words, despite her father warned not to take anything for granted yet, and that caressing hand... gave her hope. She felt the tight pinching sharp chains wrapped around her heart loosen, just that bit enough to make it beat again.

* * *

They had dinner all together. Their mood had improved much. Both siblings were even smiling.

No, they couldn't rely on the scientists to actually find a solution. The problem was still as real as it was that morning and all the days before. But now they had a chance. A minuscule sparkle of hope harboured in their spirits and, after a tragic day like the one they just had, that sparkle, alone, was enough to wrap their souls in warmness. It was like they didn't need anything else if not a tiny light in that vast murkiness.

They might face better the adversities now. Even school.

Even if that meant that there was a more concrete chance for Chris to get back to his school career and his grades one day.

He told Claire not to worry too much about his grades. He was good enough at school to recover them once - _if - _he'd be back in his body.

Those bad feelings Claire experienced before were gone like dust in the wind. That feeling of absolute terror, faintness and… panic had been too terrifying. She had felt like she was going to drown into mud. She hoped with all her heart she'd never experience anything like that ever again.

Once the dinner was over, the two siblings were alone in the living room. Robert had gone upstairs right after dinner, a pulsing migraine coerced him to retire early despite he had come home earlier from work. Lily preferred cleaning the dishes and the kitchen alone, to give her kids a bit of relax. They needed it. As she knew them, she was aware of how her kids were close and how much they needed to be together, especially in a difficult time like that.

"Would you like to watch a movie?" he asked, falling on the three-seater sofa.

"Yeah… something funny though."

He scrolled a bit in the movie gallery on tv and proposed a superhero movie, not an epic one but one of those ridiculous idiot movies with bad special effects they loved to make fun of so much.

Real Claire, in the meantime, she had prepared all the rest, turning the lights off, opening a bag of chips and adjusting a cosy blanket, beneath which they cuddled together. Fake Claire leaned upon fake Chris' thick body, and head resting on the arm his sister had idly rested around his thin shoulders.

"I'm sorry for before, Chris" Claire said during the ending titles.

"Don't be sorry, you were panicking. It must have felt awful."

"It was. But I'm still sorry."

"It's ok, Claire" and he leaned up to place a kiss on the rough cheek. "Hey... time for a beard trim, uh?"

"Yeah…" she grumbled, scratching her cheek" It grows so fast! It makes me miss my body hairs!"

"Hairs... ugh... another female thing I'll have to face, right?"

"Well... yes and no... I'm not that hairy. And the few I have are blonde - don't be fooled by my hair colour! - short and grow sloooowly. I'm envied by all my friends!" She said with pride. "And you're lucky too as I waxed just the day before the stupid accident! You won't have to worry for a looooong time!"

"Hopefully!" He chuckled.

The thought of that voluntarily self-induced pain wasn't suiting him at all. He was used to be hairy. He wasn't a total bear, he had just few on his chest, lower belly and some on the legs, but... he'd never shave his body hairs!

"Chris... about what I said..." real Claire said, looking straight at her former delightful eyes "You did pretty well with your first periods! I... I remember mine... I cried all day as all that blood was upsetting and the pain was terrible."

"You were like... What? Eleven? Twelve? I don't remember exactly..."

"I was twelve." She nodded "and pretty confused about what was happening in me. Becoming a woman... just like that. Now you are a child and a moment later you are a woman bleeding between legs. Oh, Chris, back then I'd have never thought I'd be missing periods one day!"

_Missing periods. Such a double entendre._

Chris glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, besides the tall bookshelf, it was almost midnight.

"We should go to bed…" he whispered, but in his mind he continued "_tomorrow is gonna be another fucking hard day."_

They turned off the tv and went upstairs. They both needed a shower. To clean skins and minds, washing away the hardest day of their lives so far.

As real Claire was the most tired of the two of them, Chris let her go first, while he went into the Girly Room to pick the underwear he was going to put on after the shower. While he was waiting, he took a moment to look at the room around him. Claire's room. Girly room. And he abandoned himself to a deep train of thoughts about the fact that if an hypothetical stranger would've entered that room in that very moment, he wouldn't have noticed nothing extraordinary: a tidy room, with light walls and white furniture, a definitely girlish wardrobe, hints of pink and rose and red all over and a delightful girl sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands hidden under her knees, while letting her bare feet dangle freely and brushing the soft carpet. Everything in order. But he just felt out of place.

Everything was so tremendously feminine for him, and it seemed to him he was noticing them for the first time as if he had never been there before, as if he didn't know by heart the fruity perfume of that room.

Half of the things inside there hadn't a matching name in his head, and the other half was just without any interest to his eyes, except for the pc, the little succulent plant on the desk (he thanked all the heavens for not needing those plants to be watered, or it would already be dead) and the photos on the walls. The latters, in particular, were loved by him. He started to look closely at them, one by one, recalling the moments they had been taken.

Despite being in Claire's room, in the majority of them there was also him. He saw the one of her first day at school, that Lily took on the front porch before accompanying them to the bus stop, he and Claire were so little, and she let all of her agitation and excitement transpire from the slightly embarrassed smile their mother had immortalised.

There were the photos of Claire in pantyhose on her first ballet recital, of them dressed up for the costume party held for the re-opening of the nearby park, of their crazy orange and white cat, Nemesis, that had been their only pet until few years before when a drunk idiot slayed it with his car. There were a couple of photos of their grandparents, lots of Polaroid snapshots of her friends pinned to a cork bulletin board, the memories of the trip to the Andean region of Peru of few years before where Claire had her mother buy her one of those typical vicuna wool hats, colourful and warmest, with those adorable llamas and abstract pattern, that she loved madly and still kept in her closet despite not fitting her head anymore. The photos of them in front of Ellis Island, where both were mimicking the Statue of Liberty's pose, raising their ice-creams cones high in the air.

But his favourite was without any doubts the one hanging over the headboard of the large bed. A big black and white photo of a dancing Claire, that he had given her for her last birthday back in February. There she was just beautiful. The most beautiful. A goddess.

A tender smile escaped from his lips when thinking that, in spite of all the effort he could put up, and despite residing in that same body, he could never be able to look that tremendously enchanting as her.

Beauty does not linger only in one's body, but it transcends it, the body being a mere mean to show inner beauty. He even laughed at the depths his reasoning was leading him to. It was midnight and too late to philosophize.

_I am too damn tired_.

A light knock on the door drew him back from his thoughts, and the shortly bearded big face and wet hair of fake Chris popped up from the door to tell him the bathroom was free. After the ineluctable goodnight kisses, it was real Chris turn to enjoy a bit of relax.

* * *

He got into the already warm bathroom and got undressed, putting a silly shower cap on as his hair was clean and didn't need shampooing. He wasn't closing eyes anymore but still looking at that naked body in the mirror was a problem. He still avoided it.

He stepped in the shower and, resting under the hot jet, he recalled what had happened from the moment he woke up to just few seconds before.

_Hardest day ever for sure_!

He needed to brush away all that tension. He needed to unwind and feel good. The shower was helping. The soap's lavender scent was helping too. But he knew that it wasn't what he _really_ needed. He knew what could make him feel better. If he were still a boy he'd have already been rubbing one out. And now he wanted to masturbate but he couldn't. Not now that he knew there was a chance to give _it_ back to her.

Claire had said that he could - even if she did only refer to touching those body parts - but... the awareness that he would then know how his sister would climax was preventing him from sliding his hand down on himself. He tried to ignore the physiological need to touch himself and procuring himself some pleasure, by focusing on the copious foam that draped his skin and the dense, inebriating lavender perfume. He inspired the purple fragrance deeply, massaging the base of his neck and reclining his head backwards but he had to stop when, exhaling the humid breath, a faint moan escaped from his red lips. That feeble sound convinced him it was about time to rinse and go to bed.

Silently, he got out of the shower and dried his skin in the red bathrobe, put on his underwear and left.

But the temptation followed him right behind and hit really hard as he stepped into the closet to grab a pair of pyjamas and glanced at the mirror. Just like after his first shower, he was blown away by the sight of that hot body, even if now it wasn't fully naked. His eyes wandered on that pale skin, never going past the throat height.

Beautiful body, indeed.

_It's my body now._

Chris was going to experiment on his own skin that not only male testosterone would drive boys crazy, but also girls had their own hormones and libido that would light up when tickled.

He had been staring for an indefinite moment when his hands moved by themselves and grabbed his bra straps, pushing them down, right before pushing it _all_ down, revealing his breasts. While keeping his eyes on the mirror, he slid delicately his fingertips from his shoulders to the soft skin of his bosom, trailing little circles around his nipples. He then touched them full hands and, massaging slowly, he started to breathe quite heavily and wondered if even real girls would find it that pleasant when touching their own tits or if it was just because he was a horny boy.

He reached down, hands palming the round curves of his underboobs and then sliding down his flat belly, fingers brushing the pale skin delicately. He bent his head aside, focused and lost at the same time, and fiddled a bit with the seam of the cute panties he was wearing before touching himself carefully, without even slipping the little piece of fabric off.

He was arousing fast. He knew how to touch a woman and now he was trying out his technique on himself. It was working pretty well since little surprising moans escaped from his lips. He bit them, not to prevent other moans to escape, but to feel their plumpness under his teeth, he wanted to kiss them.

He found those sounds, those musical vocalisms a delightful melody he wouldn't stop, not that he had the capability to stop them. He was too excited.

He let pleasure drive him. Drive him wild. Those shivers rising like voluptuous fumes from the pit of his belly, under the merciless touch of his famelic fingers, reaching up until intoxicating his mind, just made him moan more and throb harder.

So this is what women feel, he wondered.

He stopped only to slide the hand beneath the fabric as he was now too eager to feel the damp result of his own teasing.

He got closer to the mirror and, as the pleasure was getting bewildering, his legs sagged til he found himself kneeling in front of the reflected woman. Still touching himself, he accidentally met _her_ gaze.

_That look again._

An incredibly aroused Claire was looking right in his eyes while masturbating, panting and moaning, moving her hips seductively, drawing loose circles in the air with them, indecently staring with her killer eyes, ocean blue irises blazing from behind a wild layer of messy auburn hair, lusciously pulled away with a smooth gesture of the other hand.

That was sick. But he was far too beyond to stop right there. His rubbing went furious and wild, the wet sounds produced by it stirring in the air, until he came, shivering in absolute pleasure, clasping his thighs together, letting out a sharp little cry and burying his face in the mirror under the forearm he had slammed on it, steaming the glass with his hot heavy breathing.

"Oh, fuck…" he whispered, but no regret seemed to soil his words, rather that panted whisper sounded more like a praise to clitoris and its magnificence.

He had just had his first orgasm after more than a week, his first orgasm in a female body, his first masturbation as a girl and he had done it to his sister. To her body, her face, her eyes.

That was sick. That was dirty.

Yet it had been wonderful.

He leaned back and sat on his ankles, keeping his eyes low. He slowly slid off his hand from the floral panties and looked at the shiny humidity staining his fingers. He looked back at the mirror. Claire was staring at him with a naughty grin while saucily licking the corner of her mouth with the tip of her tongue.

* * *

The following day them both needed an extra dose of pancakes and mother's love before hitting school again. It was another hard day and their expectations weren't disappointed.

Many times both Claire and Chris made their friends look puzzled or worried. Many times they found themselves into those tricky situations they should have avoided so bad.

Real Claire even barricaded herself inside a toilet stall because of another panic attack.

Professor Wong was really a masterclass bitch and had scolded her in front of everybody as she didn't like at all the too little efforts her favourite student was putting into studying her subject, and complained about Chris Redfield suddenly giving up on maths for no apparent reason, making fake Chris appear like a total jackass unable to answer the simplest maths question.

She fought really hard to push that crisis back, to stop quivering and breathing that hard and to suppress the rising wrenching in her guts. Even keeping her knees from collapsing on the dirt ground wasn't easy, she had a great deal of trouble to grab the walls, grab her chest, try to normalize the panting and avoid falling inside the toilet at the same time since her legs were suddenly weak like jelly.

Other guys in the bathroom just thought someone was having a savage whack in there.

Now that she knew that the switch might be fixed, all her anxieties and worries about her brother's school career, reputation, friendships only grew bigger, unnerving her.

Chris's friends noticed that something wasn't right with their friend, but they had to desist in front of fake Chris' fake smiles, fake reassurances, fake excuses.

Fake Claire's friends had their good share of worries too. And being them all girls, real Chris had to put much more effort into deceive their pressing questions. He wanted just to stick to the fucking plan but being surrounded by so many chatty, curious and gossipy girls made it impossible.

All that girly talking had another consequence, though.

He was discovering many details about Claire, things he never guessed as a brother, things she kept from him. Mostly about her love life.

He already knew his sister had had her first experiences with boys, even if she had never introduced anyone to him, but knowing she had actually _had sex_ made him feel uneasy and woke up violently his brotherly jealousy.

No guys were worth of touching her. Such a hypocritical thing to think... by someone who had slipped his hands in her panties.

Also, there was still that _Bitch Vickers_ thing to ascertain. He hoped it wasn't him the guy whom Claire had lost her virginity to. He couldn't bear knowing that, the _now his _body, had been desecrated by that motherfucker. He regretted Vickers was already at the college as he would have liked to kick his ass, no matter he was in a petite body, his rage was so deep he could've smashed a wall barehand. He had to catch up with his sister about that later.

It was only Tuesday and they went back home wishing weekend would come fast. Wrecked and miserable.

* * *

The infamous plan, besides school, considered also their other usual activities. In fact, on the previous Sunday, when refining the plan, real Claire agreed to keep bringing that heavy muscled body to the gym as her brother used to. Real Chris then taught her all the hardware names and functions, how to do exercises properly, how to warm up, and many other tips. That was actually easy for Claire to understand, remember and, later on, to put into practice. As that body was really strong she found easy to train, also, sweating and lifting weights was a precious way to release tension for her.

But real Chris couldn't go to the ballet school. That required technique not just strength. They tried to make him dance and, even if real Chris found that his sister's body kept balance easier and laughed hard when he found his leg less than one inch far from his nose, he admitted he wasn't able to dance. They resolved to make Lily call the ballet teacher saying that for at least 5 weeks Claire couldn't go because of a bad muscle tear and doctors recommended to rest. They had bought some time. Real Claire, however, made real Chris promise he'd be stretching and doing light exercises at least every two days, just to keep muscles toned and flexible.

On that Tuesday evening they were in the basement talking about those things. The entrance to the room they were in was at the end of a staircase that connected it to the living room. On the left of the entrance there was a small bathroom and on the right the laundry room, that also had inside a folding door hiding the boilers and electrical cabinets. At the far end of the room there were a weightlifting bench and some heavy handlebars, things that real Chris used during weekends when the gym was closed. And on the longer wall, by the right side, there was a huge mirror, covering most of it, with a dancing bar attached. That room was their personal gym and dance floor. It wasn't rare to see them training in their respective passions down there. Claire'd be dancing graciously in front of the mirror while Chris'd be doing push ups.

Real Claire started to look intensely at the mirror, she made her brother come close and observed.

"You know Chris... we are switched but in the mirror we are alright. In the mirror left is right and right is left, so Claire is Chris and Chris is Claire. If we don't move we can even pretend we are in our real bodies and everything is just fine. It's weird you know? For the first time the reflection is more truthful than reality."

"Yeah... that's twisted, Sis." He couldn't help letting his mind go back to what he did in front of another mirror on the previous night.

They looked at each other faces, _their _faces, for a while before fake Chris eventually started to move. Started to dance.

That manly body wasn't as flexible as her previous one, but the technique she had quite made the rest. She was moving smoothly, following a silent melody, an invisible rhythm, a random choreography. Her movements had a delicate and feminine allure, so unusual to see on that body but still so natural, like fake Chris had been dancing all his life.

Real Chris watched the scene both moved and amused: his heart ached a bit for he knew his sister was missing her favourite hobby but seeing her flying around in that muscular body of his, painted a warm smile on his gorgeous face.

"What?! Is this the highest you can lift a leg?!" She squealed, laughing at her brother while she was desperately trying to push her right leg up. A hint of a pain in the groin made her cautiously push it back down.

Real Chris laughed along shrugging. "I could tell you the same about those handlebars over there" he replied smirking, drawn back from his thoughts.

"Touché" she replied with a bubbling laughter "Well then... I think is time to try out this famous strength of yours by myself!"

And that said, she approached the smaller figure and, hands firmly gripping at both sides of the other's waist, she lifted him offhandedly.

Real Chris had done that same thing to her a million times, to show off his physique, but now it was him the one tilting horizontally above that huge body.

"WOW CHRIS! I can't believe I just lifted a whole person this high!" She yelled, super excited.

She lowered him on her chest, keeping him lifted like he was a child. He parted his skinny legs and wrapped his sister's big torso and his arms enveloped her robust neck.

"Hell yeah, Claire! It's so fucking cool! I had never been lifted this way either since I was eight or nine... I don't remember... since Dad was no more strong enough to lift me!"

"Oh, and it's so weird to have someone clung on me… Geez, I didn't think _I_ was actually this light… look! I can lift you effortlessly!"

"That's because your light, of course… and also 'cause my muscles are awesome!" real Chris replied proudly, patting his previous back.

They were laughing. They were hugging tightly. They were alright. Small moments of serenity in an ocean of torment. They were alright only when they were together. Home was their haven, each other their salvation.

* * *

**Chris did what? I warned ya boy! I told ya hormones are bad bitches!**

**That was my first attempt into writing smut... honestly, I don't know how good it was... let me know!**

**I love giving titles to chapters (damn, I do it even to my diary!), every title is strictly connected to that part of the story they represent. This one was inspired by a song, _Dancing in circles_ by Lady Gaga, that talks about... female masturbation, of course ;D**

**It summed up it so well that i found it perfect!**

**_Dancing in circles, feels good to be lonely._**

**That song lyrics fit perfectly what Chris is going through in his mind.**


	8. No More Secrets

**CHAPTER 8 - No more secrets**

It was Friday and they were broken. The school week was coming to an end but they were on the verge of giving up. Instead of getting easier it was getting worse. Skipping troubled situations and trying to act cool required lots of mental and emotional energy. They were tired. Every morning, getting up from bed was getting a feat, heavier and heavier as days went by, and the mattress seemed to swallow them like quicksand. The way to the bus stop was dolorous as a Way of the Cross, each step reminding them to wear their mask and start the fiction.

Switching roles in the morning and then getting home, switch back and start being called by their true names again was exhausting, confusing and annoying.

Even their phones were only going back and forth between them. They should better have switched their phones once and for all, but they were reluctant to let go of that little piece of normality, as that virtual chatting was the last little sparkle of normality they had left about their social lives. Through their phones they could still be Chris and Claire for real.

Accordingly, they had started to stay together when chatting with friends, so the other would know what had been said. It appeared being a little helpful on the following days. Not decisive, but helpful.

On the other hand, however, being under the scrutiny of the other's eye didn't let them chat freely with friends. Real Chris wouldn't answer Carlos' dirty jokes in the same racy way he used to do. Real Claire would just avoid replying to any teasing about boys.

Even only thinking about boys was a problem. As long as she'd be inside that body, carrying on her brother's life, she'd better stop thinking about them as she couldn't start any dating, and for obvious reasons: even if she found an interesting guy, she couldn't just make a move as he couldn't guess it was Claire and not Chris… and even if the guy _would like_ fake Chris' _attentions_… well, she couldn't date the guy anyway once - _if_ \- she'd be back in her body, for other obvious reasons. She also thought about the eventuality of having to have sex with a boy one day if the shit couldn't be fixed. Would she like that? She liked sex with boys with her female body, but what about with this one? Damn, would she even able to have sex at all with her brother's penis?

Her brother had the same problem. Many times real Chris had found himself peeping at a girl's butt at the school cafeteria, just to look away angrily, hoping no one noticed his devious famelic stare.

* * *

On that first Friday of October, real Claire got home before Chris. Her last class had been cancelled and as she had had to spend the last one faking to enjoy Miss Wong's curves and trying to do some dirty comments on her tits, she was happy to burrow into Man's Cave.

She laid on bed, eyes closed, the back of a hand resting on her forehead, recalling all the week's events in her mind. All the suffering, all the anxiety, the worsening panic attacks, all the hard study she had to do to keep her brother's grades at an acceptable level - except for maths, she was doing almost well, after all studying was a distraction - and keep studying even her own old subjects, the homework load had duplicated for them. In other words she had to study for two people, just like Chris.

She sighed. At least, she was still alive. That part of the plan was the only one they hadn't failed yet.

She needed to relax.

She got up and wandered to the bookshelf beside the door to scan her brother's vinyl records collection, till she found _Highway to Hell _by AC/DC.

_Perfection_.

She loved that. She needed a good dose of rock and roll to fuck off a bad week.

She put it in the record player and climbed back on bed as the music started filling the room. Dammit, that first song summarized perfectly her condition. Well, not all the lyrics... actually only the chorus did, but she didn't mind. As far as she knew, she was on the highway to hell too.

As the music played and topped up the room, while quietly humming the lyrics along with the aussie band, she started recalling also the good things happened on those past days. The good moments with Chris, the lovely hugs of her mother, the movie nights on the sofa, the ridiculous way Chris attempted to put mascara on, even some bad but funny saucy jokes of Carlos.

She also recalled all the times she had gone to the gym. They had settled that reducing it to only two times a week would be fine, just enough to keep that body well-toned. She had days to rest before other two hours of total body training. She thought back at the moments in the gym locker room and grinned, chickling under her breath... there she was surrounded by boys going around shirtless and having showers right next to her as if their only purpose in life was to make good display of their brawns just for her. Well... being fake Chris had its advantages after all!

Maybe it was the fact that she was relaxing after a hell of a week, or maybe it was the rock music playing, or maybe those hot thoughts about naked boys or, most likely, it was a combination of all those elements but Claire started to feel something... _moving_. It was just a pleasant warmness at the beginning but it soon increased into something more. She knew what that was_._

_He is waking up._

She sighed, relishing the arousal. Her heart was already pounding fast, the temptation of slipping a hand down on herself was nestling in her chest like a slithering demon, ready to take over her.

She wanted it. Chris had given his approval. She knew that. It wouldn't be anything wrong. She wouldn't _do_ anything wrong to her brother.

_It's my body now._

Without taking off her hand from the head, she reached down with the other and started massaging through the fabric of her sweatpants, sensing the whole length of her penis under her fingertips. It felt good, still a lot unusual the feel of such a stranger appendage being hers and slightly moving as if it had its own conscience, but immensely good and pleasing. Just like in the shower, but this time the pleasure was growing faster and greater. That feeling was what made her make up her mind.

After a while of that gentle but determined stroking, she lowered all the fabric and took herself in hand, looping one finger at a time around the thick member. It wasn't her first time seeing an erection, but it was her first time seeing _that penis _erected. Her brother's hard-on. It was disturbing and arousing at the same time.

_He_ stood there, tall and fierce, the tip swaying like a bamboo in the breeze, bulging more and more with every touch. She liked to play with the pad of her thumb for a bit, caressing the whole length like a windshield wiper.

She just went on stroking herself with increasing abandon until her hand started a mad pace, going upwards, gyrating a bit on the tip and then again downwards til the base, in a rapturous loop. It felt better than any shower timid touching. Way better. She enjoyed every single shiver, every moan, every twitching, every hip thrust, everything. Her breath came out now in ragged pants and little, stuttered and sighed syllables of forbidden words came out of her parted lips like a supplication.

She laid with her lap completely exposed, one hand jabbing her dick with vehemence, the other gripping tightly the blanket, hazel brown eyes closed under her thick furrowed eyebrows, all her manly features were pursed into an expression of most painful pleasure. Being her first time, she let instinct lead her through it. She felt she was quickly losing control over her pleasure, she couldn't stop it anymore from run over her. Not that she wanted to stop. She felt that even if she interrupted her stroking, the climax was just few seconds away and it would have possessed her anyway.

When she climaxed she almost cursed, the pleasure so sharp that made her abdomen contract violently, causing her to rise up from the mattress, while fireworks were blasting in front of her clenched, rolled back eyes.

She laid back down on the bed panting heavily, still caressing herself gently, fingers idly stroking her quickly softening penis, lost in the sweet aftermath of her masturbation. Her head was completely empty. Everything seemed to have disappeared: the switch, the problems, the anxiety, the shame. It was good. A moment of purest relief.

She looked down on her to watch once more that manly hand doing such an erotic thing as grabbing and massaging a dick but immediately spotted all the white stains spread over her shirt.

_Fuck!_

She had forgot that boys ejaculate. She had spilled her sperm all over her belly.

Cursing under her breath, she put the shaft back into boxers and pants and climbed out of bed as she needed to go to the bathroom to wipe away the sperm and throw her shirt in the laundry basket. And wash her hands, no... better have directly a shower, that hot touching had made her sweat.

As she opened Man's Cave door she stopped, paralyzed with dismay.

Real Chris was standing right in front of her in his dainty girlish body.

He had returned home from school and was heading to Girly Room when he came across that muscular _fake_ Chris' body, with an embarrassed look on the face and... unmistakable white drops on the shirt.

That was a most delicate moment, he knew it for sure. Wrong reaction and he would've screwed his relationship with his sister.

If he just ignored what he had seen and continued walking towards Girly Room it would've just been worst, he thought, as that would've meant building a wall between his sister and himself. A wall of shame and secrecy.

"Guess you need the bathroom right?" He said trying to smile as innocently as possible.

Real Claire was embarrassed to the bone and didn't know what to do or where to look. She was feeling guilty. Guilty for having done it and for having been caught.

Real Chris sensed her shame and approached his sister. "Go to do what you have to in the bathroom, Claire, I'll be waiting in the Man's Cave."

_Dammit_.

He wanted to talk! It made her feel even more uncomfortable but she wouldn't say him to just walk away and leave her alone. She couldn't. For it was something that pertained him too.

She shyly nodded and went to the bathroom, mentally blaming and cursing all the Gods and Saints and Spirits of all the religions of the world for her bad luck.

* * *

They were laying on the bed side by side. Real Claire on the right side of real Chris. They were staring at the ceiling, silently. Fake Chris was shirtless as the needed shower had to wait. The music was still playing, and the first notes of _Love hungry man _had just started floating in the ether. _That_ was a very perfectly suiting song for what had occurred, and about what they were going to talk!

"I don't want you to feel ashamed about it Claire" Chris started at some point, quite ready to talk with his sister about male autoerotic practices. Something that he knew really well.

Real Claire was silent.

"Remember what I told you last week? In the Girly Room? It's normal to want to touch it in other ways than just brushing it for a wipe." He said and, chuckling quietly, he added "I mean... boys do it all the time! It's alright!"

"I know that. But it's not alright being caught, Chris." She had finally found the courage to speak, even if she kept her raw voice nothing more than a coy whisper. "Have you ever been caught?"

"Well... no. But I can guess how embarrassing it is. But don't worry Claire... It's me! You don't have to be ashamed!"

"Maybe _especially _because it's you I should!"

He knew what she meant. He was going to say for the umpteenth time that _it was her body now,_ when she continued talking.

"This is so fucked up." she exhaled, shaking her head "We're talking about _your sister_ having jerked off in _your_ bedroom with _your dick_ and having being caught _by none less than you_... and we're supposed to act like what happened is just alright and normal?!" She reasoned sighing loudly.

"Normally it wouldn't be like this, Claire. But we're living a… unique situation. We need to compromise... we need to act different than usual... we need to change. We already changed. Our body genders don't match our real ones anymore. Hopefully, it won't last long. You heard Dad. You heard how much progress they're doing day by day! But until that shit works we have to just keep dealing with _this shit_. I know it's something pretty intimate, siblings don't usually talk about that, but now it's your bod-"

"You're not saying anything I don't know already, Chris."

What Claire didn't know was that Chris had much more to say. He had to clean up his conscience. Maybe if she knew that they were both _sharing the exact same shame and issues _she might have felt better...

"Claire..." He needed all his nerve to do it and even a bit of sauciness to speak without blushing like a little girl "don't be ashamed to say that you needed to... do it, not in front of me..." he breathed deeply and confessed "because I did exactly the same."

It took her few seconds to understand what her brother had just said. She kept her eyes locked to the ceiling, widening them in realisation when she understood her had just said he had masturbated too.

"Y-you did it?"

"Yes, Claire. I needed it. I-I needed a moment to feel good."

"When?"

He thought about it a moment. "It happened on Monday night. I was so wrecked after that hellish day... I couldn't resist. I tried... But… ugh… I needed to feel good. It helps me feel better."

He had said it. It had been quite easy after all. But something was still missing to finish cleaning up his conscience.

"I did it every night since then."

_Ok_.

Even if they never talked about masturbation back when they were normal, Claire knew that her brother, being an adolescent boy, did it normally. It was never a mystery. Every boy does. What was really leaving her perplexed now was that fact that he had done it with _her_ body. He had taken pleasure from that body, the same she'd eventually get back soon, he had touched her! Because, of course, it was _his_ body now, but it still was _hers_ too. And vice versa. And to make it even worse, he now knew that she had the same habit. Because girls are human too. These things were what embarrassed her the most.

"We are such a fucking mess!" She blurted out laughing hard, so hard she had to hold her belly, hands clenched on the six pack.

Real Chris was a bit confused by that reaction but eventually started giggling too.

"Oh, Chris! This is so ridiculous! We've not only masturbated in each other's body but... We're... HA HA HAAAA... We've even confessed it to each other! Don't you hear how fucking ridiculous that sounds?"

"Actually it's pretty silly!" He laughed back, with more abandon this time. He was relieved his sister was reacting that way, or at least, he hoped that a good laugh was also a good sign. After all she was still that badass girl Claire's always been.

They laughed along a little while, and when the room went quiet again, feeling that now they could just talk about it more freely, Chris asked "So... how was yours? You liked that?"

He wanted to know how well his dick was working, not hiding a little malicious male pride about his dick satisfying girls' needs.

They had just crashed down a big part of their mutual modesty. After all, they already were seeing the other's body naked from head to toe, they had admitted their secret lonesome touching, and laughed hard about it, that they might just start talking about their sexuality openly.

It actually went easier than expected, they didn't feel as much unease as they thought, and it just decreased as long as they kept talking about it. Yes, sexual modesty was definitely leaving their siblinghood.

"I liked that. A lot." Real Claire answered "but I forgot about the _spilling thing_."

"That's why my black Ramones shirt is in the laundry basket right now!" He joked faking desperation.

"_Dumbass_!... What about you?"

"Oh well... It's different than what I'm used to... But it just feels amazing! It leaves me breathless any time!"

"Yeah me too. I mean both bodies. It just feels awesome no matter the gender. Different but awesome!"

"Actually I was wondering if you have kind of a vibrator or something..." He said smirking, recalling his useless desperate search in the Girly Room's closet and drawer and nightstand two nights before.

"JESUS CHRIST, CHRISTOPHER FUCKING REDFIELD!" real Claire couldn't hold her laughs again, she started twitching and rolling so bad she eventually fell on the ground, still laughing her ass off. Her brother just asked for a vibrator! That was too hilarious!

"I... HAHAHAHA... I don't have any!" She managed to say, wiping her laughter tears and shaking her head while laughing and slapping her abdomen uselessly trying to contain the raging laughter.

"So you always go bare hands?" he wondered.

"YEAHAHAHAHAHAAH!"

"Hum..." he replied with a sly smirk and joked "I'll have to buy one then!"

"You can't be serious!" she gasped while her laughs were maddening.

"Take it as a premature birthday present!" He replied, winking.

* * *

When Claire was able to climb on bed again, she laid on her side, face towards real Chris who adjusted to the same position. She was smiling, as all the previous laughter were still ghosting on her face.

Chris was smiling too but more softly. He was happy to know his sister was feeling better.

She leaned forward and dipped him in a huge embrace, the bare skin of his muscled torso sticking to the delicate figure of him, almost enfolding all his body.

"You know Chris" she started, head sunk in the crook of her ex neck "I miss my body. All of it. But I'm starting to feel a bit more at ease in this one. At least when I'm home. Though... I miss my brother being in it sometimes."

She tilted her head backwards and looked straight in those sky-blue eyes once were hers, still holding him tightly within her biceps, her lips just few millimetres away from the point of his nose, so close that he felt her humid hot breath warming his tender skin.

"Don't get me wrong. I know you are here and I can feel you close and caring as always... That hasn't changed at all. I owe so much to you for being still the same old Chris. But I miss being the body wrapped in your embrace. I miss being lifted, I miss feeling your beard scratching my forehead when you give me the goodnight kiss, I miss dancing with you, just like I know you miss your cigarettes. It's just... I don't know... I just don't recognize me anymore in my reflection, I hear my real voice when thinking inside my head but the one that comes out my throat is deep, raw and masculine. It's yours. And even if I try to whisper to myself cheering words, like you used to do, it's not the same. It may be your voice, it may even be your words, but it's not you. We both know I never really needed to be protected in the past, but your hugs, your kisses always made me feel alright. And I need you now, but I'm having only a part of you, and you're as well having only a part of me."

Real Chris looked back at those hazel brown eyes. He missed watching her face instead of his own. He missed her laughter, he missed watching at her flying on her toes lightly like a butterfly to an _Ennio Morricone_'s piece down in the basement, he missed the sight of her dancing all around like a demoniac with earphones on and hard rock music playing, head banging and spinning her ponytail like rushing fans' blades, he missed her unexpected hugs and her handing him one of those earphones, forcing him to rock all along. He missed feeling that little body within his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head and squeezing her shoulders in his warm big hands.

And he missed his body too. No matter how good he felt when touching himself but he missed his dick. And his beard. And his height. And his strength.

He caressed Claire and placed a warm kiss on the bearded cheek. Not caring about how weird it was to him to feel crispy beard under his lips, he kept pressing them on her face, because he knew his sister was feeling him in that moment, and even if it wasn't enough, he wouldn't have spared her his loving cares. He kept kissing, breathing in his own scent, and hugging her tightly, rubbing slow circles on the broad expanse of her nude back, while she was doing the same with his nape.

"I love you, Claire."

"I love you too, Chris."

* * *

That wasn't the time to talk about anything negative. They had just had a strong siblings bonding time. He didn't want to ruin it. But he had to talk. Hopefully the previous light-hearted time might have put his sister in a better mood to discuss what they had to more easily.

"Claire, I have to talk with you about something" he said parting the hug, but not letting her go completely.

"Ok, Chris… about what?" she asked, an expression of genuine wonder appearing on her face.

If he was careful enough he might have introduced the matter without provoking bad reactions, he only had to explain everything clearly and quietly, and discuss it like the two polite young adults they were.

"Hanging with the girls I... uh..." he started but soon he couldn't hold back, the thought of what he was going to talk about tickled his hot-headed disposition too much. "... Have you dated Brad Vickers?!"

Always straight to the point. And with a plain rhetorical question.

Real Claire looked away. They had just stopped talking about how they liked stroking each other's genitals, but still that simple question was a bit, only a bit, uncomfortable.

"Well... I did." she admitted, aware that if her brother made that question, it meant he already knew a lot, if not everything.

"When?"

"Last year."

"For how long?"

"Two months."

"Did you like him?"

She looked away once more, this time to focus on her inner feelings. "I thought I did like him. But he turned out being an asshole."

Chris was heating up. He completely agreed about Bitch Vickers being an asshole, but he wanted to know why his sister thought the same. What was that thing he had done to her that Jill was referring to?

"Did he hurt you?" He was tremendously pissed off, his voice reaching higher tones.

"Well kind of... he-"

"THAT BITCH! Tell me what he did to you!" He screamed, pointing an inquisitorial forefinger at her, gaining a quite upset look from his sister "Did he forced you to do anything? He harassed you? He raped you! Tell me if he did, cause I'll be fucking kicking his ass from here to L.A. were that dickhead lives now and back! I swear if he did anything bad to you I'll kill him!" He was roaring, his round cheeks flushed, anger overcoming, brotherly love raging like a wildfire.

If Vickers, aka Brad Chickens as his friends used to call him, had only even slightly laid a single finger on her, on his little sister, that fucker should have better started to write down his last will, because nothing could've stopped Chris Redfield's wrath. Not even a couple of thousand miles separating Raccoon City from the UCLA.

In front of her brother's anger, real Claire had to use that new physical strength she had to force _fake_ Claire down and to pin her brother on the mattress.

"He didn't rape me!" She said with the calmest tone possible trying to soothe her brother's ire. "He didn't rape me, Chris. He didn't anything of what you think! He never had to force me to do anything and even if he would have done... I'd never let him win."

The fire in fake Claire's eyes didn't allude to expire but at least he stopped gritting his teeth (and only because they were Claire's).

Just a little calmer, real Chris asked again what the bitch had done to gain her disdain.

"He cheated. That's all. He was an idiot who dated two girls at the same time."

"Motherfucker." he roared under his breath.

"I dumped him. Slapped him in the face, erased his number, blocked him on every social network and walked away, not wanting to see his ugly face ever again."

_Fuck yes! That's what Redfields do!_

"Well done Claire! That bitch doesn't deserve a precious little thing like you!"

She smiled at the compliment and released him from her grip, sure that he wouldn't wiggle again.

"One last thing Claire..." He said, knowing that it wasn't much of his business but he _had_ to know. "Did he… did you have sex with him?"

"Yes." She candidly admitted, bravely staring at him.

Chris clenched his eyes trying not to blast into flames once again.

Vickers had fucked with his sister.

Vickers had fucked his sister! Vickers' filthy dick had been inside his sist-... damn! His dick has been inside _his_ vagina! Oh no no no… that was unacceptable! The thought that that son of a bitch had touched, not only his sister, but also the same body he was in was nauseating!

"Was he your first?" He said, trying to speak as softly as his disgust allowed him.

"No."

Well at least that big bitch didn't get the honour to pick her virginity, he thought, and awareness was strangely relieving for real Chris.

But now another question came along... _who had the first one been, then?_

Now he had the certainty that Claire had had sex by her own words. Something was pushing him to know more about that aspect of her life. He hoped it wasn't one of his friends or he would've definitely lost his mind... and committed homicide.

"And... who's been then?"

Claire chuckled a bit. "It was a guy at the summer camp, two years ago. His name was Jake. He was pretty good!" and remembering his worries about boys hurting her she made haste to add "and he didn't hurt me. He was as delicate as a flower."

Ok. A stranger. Good. Nobody had hurt his sister.

He finally relaxed, if not his mind at least his slender muscles, that he kept tensed and contracted til then.

"I could ask you who your first girl was but I already know the answer!" She giggled, trying to cheer the atmosphere.

"Do you?" he asked lamely.

"Yep! Sherry!" She smirked.

Of course she knew! Sherry had been his first girlfriend after all.

He smiled, he had liked that girl back then, she was pretty but their relationship wasn't meant to last longer as she was pretty... childish.

He just fucked her as long as he pleased and didn't really care when she dumped him for another guy. He was fifteen back then, he didn't care about having a real girlfriend, falling in love and things like that. He even let Carlos have some _good time_ with her, too!

_Jake, Jake, Jake_... He mumbled that name in his head a bit but he was sure he had never met him. If he wasn't wrong about which summer camp she was referring to... Jake surely wasn't a guy from their same school. Good. Well, good for that Jake… as the mysterious guy wouldn't risk coming across that (inner) behemoth of a Redfield warning him to think twice about making again a move on his sister and towards her panties.

He smiled thinking of how Claire had just saved one of his friend's life!

"You know... I feared your first one was someone I know! Or worse... one of my friends!" He spoke neutrally.

"Nah... your friends would never dare to even slightly approach me! They know how you would react and they know _this _is forbidden to them" she said, letting her forefinger slid down on fake Claire's side in a suggestive manner.

"Yes it is. And _now_ it is more than ever!" He joked. " but what about you? You said they wouldn't and that's quite obvious, but… would you?"

"Well... no. I wouldn't mess with your friends, that would be bad. Even though..." she said, a sly smirk appearing on her face.

"Even though?"

"Even though... I'd happily fuck with Leon if he wasn't your friend or Rebecca's crush. Definitely." she said, underlining her words with a malicious smile.

He almost choked on his own breath at hearing such an explicit confession, but he eventually let out a slightly forced laugh and snorted "Leon gets all the girls!"

"Oh but you do too! You should hear how my girl friends talk about you, your body..."

"Yeah I heard some of their dirty talks about me, those girls are too horny!" he bluntly said.

"Rebecca told me they also fantasize about your dick and its size when I'm not around!" Real Claire said, starting to laugh hard again "they can ask Claire Redfield about your dick size from now on! Both of her versions! HA HA!"

* * *

**So, they've both crossed the second line (the first one being the shower, of course). The road to the incestfield is full of many other nasty lines to cross, and our beloved Redfields won't disappoint us and will cross them all like champions. The more their lives will get miserable the further they'll push the bar of what is legit between them.**

**Next chapter still needs some touches but it will come out soon!**

**A huge, huge thank you to all my readers on both FanFiction and AO3! Hope to deserve your time, hearts and kudos!**

**As always, let me know your opinion in the reviews section, or PM me here or on my Instagram!**


	9. A Dangerous Game

**CHAPTER 9 - A DANGEROUS GAME**

They were enjoying the weekend. Off from school torments, they had recovered a bit of serenity. In that radiant Saturday morning, they even ventured a stroll to the near park, because after two whole weeks of just school and home, home and school, a bit of relax and nature could only be good for them.

Although a little timorous, they didn't resist the tempting invitation to go out on such a nice day. After having got themselves some coffee and donuts, they went out walking side by side in the chill breeze, enjoying the warm touch of the brave pale sunrays that, filtering through the red and yellow leaves, projected on their light skins like a luminous rain.

The insecurity of being out of their home, in the condition they were in, soon left space to a sense of overall well-being, such a stranger and rare feeling for the two kids after long days of anguish and nights of ferocious nightmares.

Both Chris and Claire in fact, had begun to have pretty tormented slumbers, waking up with a start in the middle of the night, sweaty and panting, compelled to turn on the lights to check that they weren't in an underground lab during a pseudo-nuclear blast. The worst the dream, the more tired they were the following morning at school. Many times it happened that they had to get out of bed with less than a couple of hours of sleep, as falling asleep again after such dreadful dreams was difficult.

Beyond the body switch, as days went by, both of them became more and more susceptible to everything would remind them the cause of their trauma, such as heavy noises or dazzling lights. The rumble of a truck or a motorcycle sprinting in the distance or every noise that would even vaguely resemble an ultrasound was enough to elicit anxiety and nervousness in them: Claire was by then victim of her usual panic attacks almost daily and it required really a little to provoke a new one; Chris instead, had some lighter crises but not less suffered, as he would feel his heartbeats rise up in pace, the throat dry up and sometimes even vertigo but the concern of prevent his dear ones (Claire in particular) from worrying more, helped him to overcome the crisis or at least to better conceal his malaise.

On that morning, instead, they got a little pause from all that shit they were languishing in. Maybe it was the silence wafting in the crisp air, or maybe the idleness inspired by the weekend but they felt good. Albeit they kept walking holding hands. Physical proximity contributed to make them feel better and instilled strength and safety in their shaky minds. At school they had to be parted for most of the time and this weakened them a little but on that bench, sipping coffee under that centuries-old oak, they felt on top of the world. Invincible.

Fake Claire sat resting her back against fake Chris' side and looped one of those thick arms around his thin neck, placing his head in the curve of the elbow and caressing the big hand that idly dangled with the coffee mug caught between the robust fingers. Fake Chris, in the meantime, adjusted herself behind her brother to rest her bearded chin on his head. It was such a loveliest vision that an old man, when sitting on a nearby bench, mistook them for a loving couple. The two kids let out a heartfelt laugh and simply continued having their breakfast, chatting quietly.

"Fuck!" fake Chris said at some point, hissing in her brother's ear.

"Uh? What's up?" fake Claire asked, soon alarmed by her tone.

"Leon. And Piers. Over there." she whispered with her raw, guttural voice.

Fake Claire tried to turn his head but his sight was obstructed by his sister's wide shoulder. "Did they see us?"

"Yeah…" fake Chris sighed "they're coming over."

Fake Claire gave his sister a little squeeze of the hand and whispered her to keep calm and act natural.

The two cousins joined them soon, taking a little break from their morning jogging to have a jolly chat with their friend and his sister, unaware of the damage their presence was doing to their serenity.

In conclusion, without knowing how or why, the young Redfields got a date for that afternoon to try out a new videogame at their home as the two cousins practically got inviting themselves.

It was the first time someone of their friends would enter their house since the accident. It wouldn't be easy at all. But it couldn't be that bad as they'd be home and together. They could handle it.

* * *

When Piers and Leon arrived, at 4 o'clock, they had brought along also Carlos and Kevin and a total of two more Play Station controllers. It was going to be a nerding afternoon!

The two switched kids welcomed them in their living room and set all the necessary for the big Final Fantasy and Gran Turismo Sport tournaments.

As planned, real Chris would've stayed with them, not leaving his sister alone with those jerks.

They had to fake a little in the beginning, pretending an easiness they hardly mustered but, they eventually seemed to forget their worries, for the second time on that day.

"Hey Chris! What's up?! You ok?" Carlos asked.

"What you mean?" Fake Chris answered keeping her eyes on the tv screen.

"You're winning! You must be sick!"

"I'm perfectly fine, dude! It's your gaming the problem, not mine!" She evilly laughed as she was beating him.

"Umpf… Fuckever" he snorted.

She lastly won, making Carlos animatedly curse and almost throw away the controller.

As everything seemed to go well and now it wasn't his turn to play, real Chris grabbed the empty chips tray and went to the kitchen to fill it up and prepare a pitcher of iced tea and some beers.

While accomplishing this little chore, he felt someone walking behind him and entering the kitchen area.

"Hey Claire... got to leave those nerds!" Leon sighed pointing backwards with his thumb and shaking his head, blond locks waving along with it. "As usual, Carlos is going bananas!"

"Yeah that guy has no self-control! And even less gaming skills!" Fake Claire answered smiling and shrugging.

Leon giggled, beaming his shiny smile at the beautiful girl "Yeah... anyway I need a cigarette, but as Chris is playing I'll have to smoke alone. Can I...?" And he pointed at the back door next to them, cigarette already hanging from his lips, still not lighted.

"Of corse! Please Leon!" Fake Claire answered, opening the door and letting him out in the veranda.

"Would you stay here to keep company while I smoke?" He said lighting on the cigarette. "you know… I tend to get too pensive when smoking alone…" he added chuckling and blowing out a first white ruffle of smoke.

The smell of tobacco was tempting real Chris too much to say no. Hence, he closed the door and walked by his friend.

"Do you want one?" Leon politely offered, handing the package to the fake girl.

Real Chris bit his lower lip, as he was fighting hard against his will to grab it and smoke them all.

"Don't worry, Claire, if you want one just take it." Leon added noticing her reluctant stare "I won't tell Chris. He's just started a long fighting tournament, he won't show up."

That idiot of his friend was offering _his_ sister a cigarette at _his _back?!

If Chris wasn't so desperate to smoke, he would've actually punched him in the gut. He liked Leon, he was a cool guy, but nobody should ever try to make his sister start smoking.

"No thanks, Leon. I don't smoke." He said trying to hide his disappointment under a swift move of his thin hand.

"As you wish, Claire. I'll tell you more, you better not start at all…" the boy said, nodding at his own words "Don't be stupid like me or Chris. It's a bad habit. I'm glad you refused."

Well said, Leon! You just regained the billion points you lost few seconds ago!

They talked a bit about other random things as Chris wanted to avoid thinking about the tempting smell by focusing on something else. It wasn't easy at all. He looked at that lighted cigarette going back and forth with needy eyes, slightly regretting he had turned down the latter's offer.

He wanted to smoke so bad that he hadn't noticed that Leon had got closer, had completely stopped talking and was now staring intensely in his eyes. Before he could even acknowledge it, Leon leaned forward, took his cheek in one hand and sweetly pressed his soft, moist lips on his, kissing him tenderly.

_WHAT THE FUCK_?

With a ponderous boost of his arms, fake Claire vehemently pushed Leon back killing him with his blue-eyed glare.

"THE FUCK YOU DOING?!" He angrily yelled with his squeaking girlish voice.

"I..." Leon stuttered, embarrassed and upset by that sullen over-reaction "I... I'm sorry, Claire..."

"WHY DID YOU DO THAT, YOU BITCH?!" A wrathful real Chris yelled.

"I'm sorry, you just..."

"I JUST WHAT?! UH?"

Yeah, _she what,_ Leon? The poor guy wanted to bury himself alive in that very moment, for how big was the shame of having been that violently refused by (who he supposed was) Claire. Inside his mind, he could hardly believe at his horrible luck. He couldn't believe he had really made a move on that girl.

"You were looking at me in such a way... I thought... uh... nevermind. Forgive me, Claire." Leon apologised, ashamed and flushed, scraping the base of his neck in embarrassment and looking down to avoid her hostile gaze.

How the fuck could he have believed she wanted to be kissed?! He felt like a total loser: he had just acted like a fathead in front of the girl that… well, _that_ girl. The girl he was so hopelessly infatuated of.

While Leon was sinking in utter shame, real Chris recovered a bit of self-control. Only a bit. He had forgot for a moment that Leon thought he was talking to a girl. If he knew it was actually Chris he would've cut off his tongue instead, for sure.

Real Chris deeply breathed in few times, trying to relent his bewilderment and his will to bitch slap his friend.

But there was a reason to be pissed off anyway… nevertheless, Leon had kissed _Claire_. How dared his friend to do such a thing as making a move on his sister? He felt betrayed, by none less than one of his dearest friends.

Real Chris deadly glare didn't disappear, nor the itch in his hands beckoned to fade.

Feeling fake Claire upset and willing to make up for his mistake, Leon came closer to her again and placed a timid hand on her shoulder, the other hand down, holding the cigarette. He cleared his throat twice before he could muster enough courage to look again at her.

"Claire, I'm sorry. If I knew that you didn't want it I wouldn't have dared. I swear. You have to believe me. You're my best friend's sister and… a-and I'd punch myself in the balls rather than hurt you." Leon said, a concerned look on his face and eyes clutched to fake Claire's, trying to hide his inner struggle to find the correct words to apologise and speak his mind without sounding too awkwardly embarrassed. "The fact is that... you were looking at me that way... I thought you wanted it. And I like you, so... I went for it." he spelled those last words hastily and looking away from those wrathful ocean blue eyes that were piercing him like two sharp daggers.

If in front of him, inside that body, there had been real Claire, when hearing those words, she'd have clashed her lips on his without hesitation since the deep blue of his eyes and his angelic countenance were too seductive for most girls to resist and receiving such a confession from him was a forbidden dream for half of the girls in Raccoon City High.

But there were no girls there. Only real Chris. And he couldn't give a single fuck about those tantalizing eyes and smile and blonde locks and heartfelt, coyly whispered words.

Leon felt fake Claire's hand brushing his free one and, as he looked down, he saw her grab the cigarette and put it in her mouth.

"This is mine now." Fake Claire grunted before inhaling, greedily.

* * *

Leon and fake Claire headed back to the kitchen, grabbed chips and drinks and both went back to the living room not saying a single word.

Fortunately, the other guys were too concerned about winning the car race to notice anything. But when real Claire reached for real Chris to celebrate her second place she noticed something wasn't right with her brother. She hugged him and whispered softly at his ear "You ok?"

Real Chris had to force a smile and said nothing as he felt the nervous stare of Leon hovering on himself.

Leon was in fact scared that fake Claire would tell what had happened, that meaning: his immediate death. Fortunately it didn't happen. But the blond boy didn't relax either. He spent the rest of the afternoon with a sad, downcast look on his face, avoiding the fake girl's gaze and faking to enjoy the games. He was the first one to leave.

* * *

When the two siblings were alone again, real Chris simply blurted. He told his sister what had happened in the veranda. He was still pretty upset by the unexpected and unwelcome kiss but, most importantly, he was feeling terribly guilty for having succumbed to the temptation of smoking. She listened to him with increasing perplexity.

"So... Leon said he likes me?" Real Claire asked when his brother finally went silent.

"You heard me, Claire? I've not only being kissed by a guy, but I even smoked with your lungs!" he exclaimed, guilt besieging his heart along with his usual jealousy.

She simply rolled her eyes " Ok Chris, I'm sorry that you had to meet those beautiful lips your friend has... but he said he likes me...?" completely ignoring his constant references to that single stupid irrelevant cigarette.

"Yes that's one of the things he said." He sighed.

"Shit."

_"Shit!?"_ Real Chris flinched in surprise, he was confused "Didn't you _just yesterday_ told me that you're _attracted_ by him?"

"I am but... He's Rebecca's crush."

"And so what?"

"And so... I feel sorry for my friend that has a big, big crush on a guy who likes another girl. She has quite deep feelings for him."

"So is this like a girl version of _bros before hoes,_ right?"

"I couldn't have said it better" she winked. "But I would be a big liar if I'd say I don't wish he kissed me... I'd like to try those lips though."

"Nah... they were nothing special." He bluntly replied with a shrug. _Leon is not worth of these lips of yours, Claire._

"Yes, yes, Chris, of course..." Real Claire joked and, nudging at her brother's side and lowering her voice, she added "but I guess _someone's_ gonna masturbate to those lips tonight in Girly Room, though!"

"You're only _partially_ right, Sis." He suggestively winked back.

She was partially right, indeed. Of course, Chris would have done his usual masturbation session on that night but the one having hot feelings raised by Leon Scott Kennedy would have been Claire in a strange, twisted, surreal, wet dream involving that gorgeous boy and… a well-known male body, waking her up in the middle of the night with a huge, fat orgasm and a confused "what the hell did I just dreamed?". The first nightmare free night after more than a week of incubus filled sleep. A one-night exception, as nightmares would've returned to haunt her right after.

* * *

Their phones beeped in unison. So funny. They were dining all together and chatting all along. The twinkling sound hadn't the time to fade away that Lily glared at her kids, forbidding them to even think of checking their phones. When they finally got to do it, only after having finished washing dishes together, it turned out that their phones had beeped together because they had received the very same message.

_"Sup guys! Next Friday's my birthday. My parents will fuck off somewhere for work, so Oliveira's house will be empty. Big B'day party! Don't bother to confirm your presence, just bring your asses along bitcheeees! From 8 p.m. till dawn! Your favourite hot latino, Carlos."_

"Why did Carlos text me too? He's your friend..." real Claire asked.

"Well as we played games together today he must have thought it'd be nice to invite you too. Do you want me to ask him for a confirmation of your invitation?" He asked.

"Yes please."

Chris was right, Carlos truly meant to invite Claire too at his birthday party and that was a true blessing for them as real Claire knew that, being Carlos a close friend of her brother, fake Chris had to go, even if she wasn't sure that she wanted to go to a party. Real Chris was actually happy that fake Claire got an invitation too, so his sister didn't have to go alone.

* * *

It was Sunday morning. Outside the weather was nice and neither Claire nor Chris had much will to stay at home. Robert was at work, as usual in those days, restless working for his kids' sake.

Lily was about to leave to go have some baby supplies shopping with her sister-in-law Serena, as the latter's pregnancy was in its last weeks. Real Chris proposed that him and Claire might be taking a car ride and maybe go to a shopping mall somewhere but they'd be home for lunch.

After a while, when they both were ready, they locked carefully the front door and, passing through the living room they headed towards the door to the garage, next to the basement staircase.

Chris' car was waiting only for him to start the engine and freed it from those boring walls, not having it been touched in over two weeks. Fortunately they both had a driver's licence. Or it would have been a whole new mess to teach real Claire how to drive.

Few minutes later, Claire was relaxing on her seat while her brother drove them through Raccoon City streets. She felt safe inside that car. The rest of the world flowing outside the windows ignoring that a stupid not-really-nuclear accident had messed up the lives of four people overall and their families for sure, them and those two scientists of their father's team.

Real Chris noticed her silence and caressed her hand with his little one keeping eyes locked to the street. A gentle touch worth more than a dozen questions.

"I'm happy we're going out after all this time at home..." She said with her masculine voice. "By the way, where are we going exactly?"

"I was thinking about that new shopping mall that opened at Arklay City a couple of months ago, I haven't seen it yet and it's only twenty minutes from here, maybe less."

"Great! So shopping mall it is!"

"Beware, Claire, I'm not going to do a crazy women stores tour! I want to relax and not to go around carrying bags full of girlish clothes and other fluffy stuff you want me to have." He warned. _I'm not your fucking sister!_

"Don't worry Chris. I wasn't planning any shopping for none of us. I just want to hang around and have a good time too." She said "oh, and breakfast. I'm starving."

* * *

They arrived at the mall at about 10 o'clock and just roamed through the shops, hitting only a couple of them.

The music store was their first stop, where real Chris found a couple of old records in the vintage sector he just couldn't leave on the shelf.

"Led Zeppelin and Velvet Underground?" The clerk at the cash desk asked, and looking at fake Chris he added "Man, your girlfriend over here has such a good taste in music!"

Fake Chris laughed and, scraping her beard, replied "thanks! She has good taste in men too!" And hugged that tiny figure of her brother from behind, placing a sound kiss on his crown. Fake Claire chuckled enjoying both compliments, for his taste in music and for his sister's comment while handing the cashier the money.

Once out of the store real Chris said "Thanks for your compliment! _My… er… boyfriend_ has excellent taste in women too!" He said grimacing at the last sentence.

"You're welcome honey!" Real Claire winked at him.

Their second hit was a gaming store, to purchase a gift for Carlos, and in the end they stopped at a bar, where they got some coffee and a slice of cake each. Even there they met people mistaking them for a couple, just like on the park's bench. In fact, a grey-haired old lady sitting at the adjacent table, as fake Claire got up to go to the bathroom, started chatting with fake Chris.

"Have you and your girl been together for a long time?" She asked softly and politely after a while.

"Actually we know each other since we were little kids..." Real Claire replied, giving the old lady the best charming smile that beautiful male face allowed.

"Oh, you must be so in love with each other, it's so evident... you remind me and my husband when we were young..."

Fearing that the said husband might be dead, real Claire answered cautiously "then he must have loved you a lot!"

"Oh, boy! He still does! He's old but still in love as a little boy!" She laughed, stretching her delicate wrinkles in a sweet smile. "You got his same enamoured look on both of your faces, you know? You're such a beautiful couple. And your girlfriend is beautiful too! Beautiful, beautiful eyes!"

Real Claire blushed hearing that and smiling shyly she thanked the woman, when fake Claire got back from the bathroom and, noticing that there was a conversation going on, she waved at the woman.

"Good morning Ma'am" fake Claire said.

"Good morning! Me and your boyfriend were just talking about how much beautiful you are, and it just turns out you are also extremely polite, too!" The old lady said and addressing at fake Chris again she added "she's a rare precious, don't let her go!"

"Oh, I would never let her go, Ma'am!" fake Chris replied giving an intense look at fake Claire.

* * *

They left the cafe few minutes later, joking about people addressing at them as boyfriend and girlfriend and about themselves going along with it playfully.

By then after all, they had been spending most of their time pretending to be someone else and, although they could have easily revealed they were simply brother and sister, that small play, those personas behind which they were hiding, seemed to amuse them a lot.

It was a fun as nobody imposed them to do it. Behaving as a couple of young sweethearts was just amusing and innocent, as lying this time had no potentially dangerous consequences on their respective lives.

That's what they thought at least.

They kept playing the couple game even when later on, as they spotted a grand piano in the middle of the big hall, real Claire decided she wanted to play it. "I want to try out your singing voice, Chris! I haven't done it yet and, frankly, I don't know why!" She said.

She started playing _Your_ _song_ by Elton John, with a hoarse, deep, warm voice. She sang sweetly, her brother right next to her caressing her short hair and exchanging soft smiles. And soon a small crowd formed around the piano, clapping loudly as the song ended.

In the middle of that crowd, they felt free.

They weren't Chris nor Claire. Their genders weren't fucked up, their minds weren't an anxious mess, nobody would've spotted a change in their demeanour and they didn't have to lie. They could be whoever they liked. A whatever character, with whatever story and, between a thousand options, the one of the young lovers seemed to put them at ease: they could express and ask all the affection they needed without arousing any suspicion. Differently, if they were at school, such a sweet, fond, intimate behaviour would have caused more than a single eyebrow to raise.

They had fallen into a paradox: lying was the way to feel their true selves again.

* * *

They went home eventually and spent the rest of the day doing their homework and tiding up their rooms. The Arklay City parenthesis might have been over, but not their couple playing.

That night, when they both were already in their beds but still awake, they started texting.

And there started a dangerous game. A most dangerous one.

_Chris__: u asleep?_

**_Claire_**_: no, not yet_

_Chris__: can't sleep?_

**_Claire_**_: not really..._

_Chris__: why is my girlfriend not sleeping?_

**_Claire_**_: girlfriend? __I am the boy! This means U are the girlfriend!_

_Chris__: yup I know. But my fingers refused to write that (laughter emoji)_

**_Claire_**_: you're such a dork!_

_Chris__: (heart)_

**_Claire_**_: btw why you awake too though?_

_Chris__: I had a thing to take care of (smirk)_

Claire knew exactly what that thing meant. Having been a boy for the last few days had taught her many boys' common saying and code words.

**_Claire_**_: you jerked off! (laughter)_

_Chris__: (wink)_

**_Claire_**_: Shit! Can't believe my girlfriend did it without me!_

_Chris__: please don't call me like that! At least by you... I'd like to be considered a man._

**_Claire_**_: ok. Sorry bro..._

**_Claire_**_: I CAN'T BELIEVE MY BOYFRIEND DID IT WITHOUT ME!_

**_Claire_**_: …better?_

_Chris__: yep!_

**_Claire_**_: btw... you must have been pretty horny Chris... we went to bed like 15 minutes ago! (Laughter)_

_Chris__: I needed that._

**_Claire_**_: where did you do that? Did you even manage to at least hit the bed or you came just as you closed the door? (a whole line of laughter)_

_Chris__: ha ha ha... not funny! I did it in the closet. As always u.u_

**_Claire_**_: in the closet? Why is my boyfriend whacking himself in the closet? (Smirk)_

_Chris__: there's a hot body waiting for me there (wink and heart shaped eyes)_

**_Claire_**_: are you cheating on me?! (Laughter)_

_Chris__: I would never cheat on you honey (heart)_

**_Claire_**_: then whose the body in the closet uh? Do I have to kill anyone? (Smirk and laughter)_

_Chris__: ooh it's a real sexy one. It always does anything I want... (waterdrops)_

As his sister didn't reply for a few minutes, he texted again.

_Chris__: Claire? __Hellooooo is my girl still there?_

**_Claire_**_: she is_

_Chris__: hope I didn't wake you honey (hearts)_

**_Claire_**_: no worries, I wasn't sleeping (many smirks)_

_Chris__: ?_

**_Claire_**_: I have to... take care of a thing_

_Chris__: oh (astonishment)…_

_Chris__: you need a hand? (Smirk)_

**_Claire_**_: no thx... these ones here are enough big... and expert (fire)_

_Chris__: wait. You texting me while jerking off with the other hand?_

**_Claire_**_: oooh yeeeeaaaaaaah_

_Chris__: that's my girl! __(Heart)_

_Chris__: you watching porn or something? I can suggest you a good website_

**_Claire_**_: naaaah... I don't need it. I have my six pack here doing the trick_

_Chris__: beware! that might make you come faster (smirk)_

**_Claire_**_: this dick doesn't come fast even if its life would depend on it!_

_Chris__: I know. __I'd always take at least 20 minutes to come. Now you know why I workout my arms that hard... Or why my showers are so long (laughter and... eggplant)_

The chat went silent again. After a while he heard the Man's Cave door open, blurred steps pass in front of his and the bathroom one close quietly. He knew his sister had finished. When he heard the footsteps going back to the room and the door closing, he started texting again.

_Chris__: you stained another shirt?_

**_Claire_**_: no... __I came in my hand this time._

_Chris__: good to know you went washing hands then and not throwing away my poor shirts... (laughter)_

**_Claire_**_: yep! Why? Don't you wash yours right after having played with my vagina?_

_Chris__: no. __I actually lick my fingers_

**_Claire_**_: ew... gross! (Laughter)_

_Chris__: oh, come on... if only you knew how good you taste_

**_Claire_**_: how do I taste?_

_Chris__: like the honey you are (heart)_

**_Claire_**_: (heart)_

_Chris__: Btw you were pretty fast though (smirk)_

**_Claire_**_: yep... that idiot of my boyfriend started teasing me about male physique_

_Chris__: such a bad guy_

**_Claire_**_: yeah... kind of... but you know... I love him so..._

_Chris__: (hearts) I love you too honey_

**_Claire_**_: (heart)_

_Chris__: do you feel better?_

**_Claire_**_: I do. __It was awesome! You always make me feel better, thank you_

_Chris__: my pleasure (heart)_

**_Claire_**_: next time you'll be masturbating to my reflection in the closet, text me so I can "return" the pleasure_

_Chris__: (laughter) you have no idea how much pleasure should "I" return you instead (wink)_

**_Claire_**_: I'm just glad I'd make you feel better too. You deserve it._

_Chris__: (hearts) I think we better sleep, hard day ahead. I'm sure you'll sleep tight now honey..._

**_Claire_**_: yeah... __I'm soooo sleepy now (zzz)_

_Chris__: goodnight sweetheart_

**_Claire_**_: goodnight honey (heart)_

They had kept playing that sick game all along, thinking it was just an innocent way to sweep off all the pains from their wrecked lives. The fact that they were doing it through the screens of their smartphones and through a face and a body that weren't theirs only made it easier, like wearing a mask, a mask that made them feel free to say or do whatever they wanted. Their lives had become a living Carnival, made of dissolute attitudes and debauched talks.

Inside they were hurting badly and hurting every day. That not so innocent chatting was an escape route to them and way to procrastinate their sleeping but they ignored the sign that they were crossing a line they ought not to cross.

They weren't anymore two siblings getting over nudity issues or taking pleasure from bodies that weren't their own in the secrecy of their rooms, they were becoming far too intimate even for the condition they were in.

What they ignored was that they were just nourishing hot embers smouldering under an always lesser thick layer of ashes. A huge fire would soon run over them and burn them to the bone.

They both fell asleep, naively - and also a bit purposefully - ignoring that not only they had dirtily flirted, but also that they had both admitted implicitly that they were being aroused by each other.

* * *

**Do you see how fast we are running towards the incestfield? The second week has just ended and they're getting pretty nasty, aren't they?**

**P.S. no Leon Kennedy has been harmed while writing it.**

**Or, at least, I hope so.**


	10. Breakdown

**Prologue to Chapter 10 - Breakdown**

That school week was even worse than the other. As fake Chris' grades were going down, not only his friends were getting more and more worried but, also, the teachers were starting doing many questions and suppositions. Professor Burton, Moira's father, even paternally recommended fake Chris to pay a visit to the school's psychologist as he saw the fake boy collapsing into a rising state of exasperated and dejected nervousness. The more anxieties around fake Chris grew the more real Claire would have panic attacks. The more she would try to avoid talking and socializing, the harder she'd find concentrating and studying. It was a vicious circle. A general lack of sleep just aggravated everything as, by then, every night had become a sluggish chain of nightmares, insomnia, anxiety.

Regarding fake Claire, his friends were even more harder to handle. He had learnt that girls have a different way to care about each other, they wouldn't content of a fake smile or an excuse but they'd just keep pushing to confide. Real Chris was always wondering how much deceit they were detecting on his face.

Also he knew they would talk about his demeanour at his back. Rebecca and Jill might always be defending their friend but girls like Ashley would surely spit poison and point fingers. Real Chris' heart ached badly because he knew he was ruining many of his sister's friendships with his standoffish attitude.

Not to mention boys, too. Being his sister a really good-looking girl, it wasn't rare at all that a random dude would make a move on her. Boys that he had to systematically turn down, earning for sure the increasing reputation that Claire Redfield was a haughty, conceited girl.

Heading back home at the end of the day was their priority. The school bus ride being the last tranche of an abysmal torture. Home meant safety. Home meant being together. Claire was home for Chris. Chris was home for Claire.

But home also meant going down their personal highway to hell, leading them right into a deep hole of sin and perdition. Home meant misbehaving with their bodies, sinking every pain in pleasure, as if a brush of the hand on their genitals would somehow brush away the weight of a hard day. Masturbation was their personal moment of loneliness with a secret, always attainable lover, a private whore, someone at their complete service and who wouldn't complain.

And while doing that, not keeping anything untold anymore between them (especially smutty details about their daily sexual experiences), they were getting closer and more intimate, ignoring every alarm inside their heads - if there were any - to stop doing their disturbing talks, to stop wrecking their siblinghood.

They had no more reciprocal shame.

The line between who's Claire and who's Chris was getting thinner and thinner, day by day. All that dirty pillow talk was somehow creating a dissociation between souls and bodies. Chris would just keep being aroused by that new female body of his, stopping considering, in the making, that it was his sister he was looking hot and hungry at. Also, that was his sister's the reflection he was so aroused by, his sister's the needy eyes he was insatiably thirst of.

That body was familiar to him as long as it was clothed. But when it was naked it turned out being an exotic, irresistible attraction for him.

The same about Claire. She was getting more and more attracted by her new sculptured, beautifully shaped body, more and more addicted to whacking herself: that was the only way she had to rub the pain out of her body. Gym was helping too… but masturbation was better.

She simply seemed to be unaware of the fact that it was her brother the guy she was picturing in her mind while stroking herself, because she considered that body hers by then.

But it wasn't. It was never meant to be hers.

She could repeat herself that lie a billion times, but it would always have been Chris the boy in her mind.

Chatting at night was becoming quite a habit for them, and through the filter of their phones screens, their talk would get even dirtier than their attitude and they'd just keep playing again that sick fake couple game. It was a way to keep them busy during the long insomniac nights or just to procrastinate the tormented sleep.

Eventually they started playing that same game even outside their phones, when watching movies on the sofa in the living room, bodies entwined below a blanket, sweet words and the, by then usual, smutty jokes about each other being whispered hotly. Movies' mandatory sex scenes would always ignite their fantasy and provoke saucy comments about each other's reaction to it.

They had even started to do their homework together in Man's Cave, as it had a big desk enough wide for two people, and even there they'd just exchange naughty looks.

This was the life they were carrying on. Sorrow and anxiety in the morning and afternoon, dangerously sinful behaviours in the evening and night time.

They were falling apart. Together.


	11. Roller Coaster

My brain: hey you.

**Me**: what?

My brain: about this story of yours... It's not silly enough.

**Me**: you crazy, dude!? It's totally idiot! It's finest nonsense juice!

My brain: Not. Enough.

**Me**: *rolls eyes. What do you want me to do?

My brain: add that scene.

**Me**: which scene?

My brain: the one I showed you while you pretended to be studying. The silly one. That one.

**Me**: uff... ok. But it's totally inopportune.

My brain: no, it's just smut with minor plot. Do your research, girl. And don't forget that corny joke. Also don't forget to mention that you were inspired by Xaori's _Complaints_ at some point of the story. And thank Irithyll for the sweet Leon vibes.

**Me**: Yes sir!

LITTLE EDIT: obviously my dumbass brain forgot to mention all the copious vibes of The Lady Frost's Glimpses. While writing _that _part, I had in mind that fiction, one of the firsts I read on this site. So, my thankfulness goes to _our_ Lady.

DON'T MISS THE **PROLOGUE** (SWIPE TO THE PREVIOUS PAGE).

* * *

**CHAPTER 10 - Roller Coaster**

The bus stopped and opened its sliding doors, releasing a horde of loud boys and girls after a long day spent at school.

"Hey buddy!" Carlos said, leaving a heavy-handed pat on the Redfield boy.

"Sup?" fake Chris replied, trying to repress a yawn.

"About that fucking group project Burton assigned… we can go to Kevin's to do it. He just texted. Those two little twin pains in the ass of his brothers won't be home tomorrow."

The group project. Professor Burton wanted his students to present an essay about the American Civil War and he wanted it on his desk on next Thursday. This means, they had only two days left to accomplish it.

"Oh… uuuuh…" fake Chris hummed, glancing at fake Claire, so busy in waving at Jill and Rebecca. Real Claire would have traded her whole house and garden even not to go there alone. That would have meant to prolong her school day, her forced separation from her brother, thus her anxiety, but she couldn't allow any more damage to her brother's grades. Not in history at least.

"Ok, chico. See you tomorrow." she said shrugging, faking an easiness she could never really muster, before lacing her virile hand together with her brother's delicate one and walk home, frowning badly as she turned her back at his friends.

_Dammit._

* * *

The following afternoon real Chris returned home all alone. At the bus stop _fake_ Chris hadn't got off, instead she continued the ride to go to Kevin's for the history group homework. He was pretty worried about his sister. It seemed to him that she was really tired and broken when he met her by the bus, or even before, at the cafeteria, she just seemed to be weak and tired. She still hadn't had the time to tell him anything but he could've bet his head she had had a hell of a school day. He almost hoped she'd have changed her mind and went home with him but, predictably, she had no intention of skipping that homework.

_His_ homework.

He knew she did it only for him. He knew she would've stepped out of the bus if she had the choice. But choices were expensive goods they couldn't afford lately.

His mother had returned from work too just as he had finished his homework. _Her_ homework. Well, not really finished. He had studied what he had to, but the short text about Shakespeare that his English teacher assigned to write down had to be written by Claire.

He sighed out a downcast huff.

Handwriting was another big problem in their lives, as that was another thing that had followed their souls in the swap. It wasn't something they had figured out immediately, but as school days went by, it appeared being a big, big problem.

Claire had always had a round, neat, harmonious handwriting whereas Chris' one was… well, horrible. It hadn't changed much since the one that teachers strived to teach him during first grade and, when he had to take notes quickly, it just seemed a tornado had messed up the letters on the page. He had desperately tried to imitate Claire's one but unsuccessfully, unlike Claire who was pretty good at worsening her calligraphy and imitating his.

Anytime he had to take a note during classes he would've fast scribbled something on the paper and immediately hidden it with the hand or another sheet. But that was a weird behaviour, so weird that it didn't went unnoticed. That's why he stopped taking notes at all and tried to memorize the most he could of what teachers explained. But that was as well weird and it was noticed too gaining Claire Redfield many many reprimands from teachers. Especially Wesker, who seemed to be strangely attentive about fake Claire's education.

He felt so useless. Because of it his sister had the double of homework to do: not only both of them had to continue studying their old subjects but he couldn't help her with anything that had to be written by hand.

He was in Man's Cave doing these depressed reasonings when Lily called him by his sister's name.

* * *

Real Claire took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell at Kevin's apartment. Kevin lived on the sixth floor of a condo with his mother and his two younger twin brothers.

Her brother's friend welcomed her in his usual laid-back manner.

"Man! We were gonna send a cab to pick you up!" he exclaimed.

"Sorry buddy. Have you already started?" she said while splashing her hand on his in the typical boyish salute. She couldn't tell him that, as she had never been there before, it had been difficult to find the right building.

"How could we start without our top student?" Carlos' distant shout hit her ear from the nearby living room.

Real Claire frowned inwardly_. Their_ top student was many blocks away from there, studying British literature inside Girly Room. She incited herself to remain calm. They only had to write an essay. Civil War couldn't be that difficult, she had read many books on that issue before. Chris' knowledge wasn't necessary, she could muster something herself, and after all, it was a group project and that global blessing of internet existed! There were a total of three brains working on it, albeit she feared her brother was the one guy that did all the work in cases like that.

"Imma make you work your asses off, guys!" she said, faking an amused laugh.

"Ho ho hooo… have you heard that Ryman? The boss here is threatening!" Carlos shouted, huffing and waving his hand as if he had just got burned by boiling water.

"No threats Carlos. That was just to make things clear." fake Chris replied trying to sound neutral.

"Don't worry Chris. We're here to help you. You won't do this alone. We'll be right here making sure you'll write it properly." Kevin said winking.

"Is that supposed to sound sarcastic?" she asked chuckling a bit.

Kevin widened arms and smile "Man, _Sarcasm_ is my second name!"

"I thought it was Leon's!" Carlos sneered.

"No, his stands for _Shithead_." Kevin pointed out.

Real Claire growled out a little laugh and slumped onto one of the chairs by the wide table. "Let's get this shit done." she wearily sighed out.

* * *

"_Claaaaaire_!" real Chris heard his mother say aloud "Claire please come downstairs..."

Why on Earth was she calling him by _her_ name? If she was joking or making fun of him, she had to stop. He wasn't in the mood for jokes.

As he took the last steps down the staircase he spotted Rebecca and Jill talking with his Mom in the dining room.

"Claire!" Rebecca exclaimed, jumping towards him "long time we no see!"

Long time?! He had waved at them less than a couple of hours before! Why were them there?

He tried to grin at her sarcasm and took a glance at his mother. Lily was looking back at him with increasing concern and a stern gaze.

"Hi Becky... yeah... two hours is quite a long time uh?" He tried to joke, while glancing at his mother striving to read what surfaced on her worried face.

Rebecca laughed in her usual jolly manner and Jill handed him a paper bag. "This is for you!"

Fake Claire was pretty surprised in front of that unexpected gift. "Is it my birthday yet? I thought it was October and not already February..." he feigned a laugh, fearing he had forgot some kinda girl tradition Claire didn't warn him about.

"Do we need an excuse to make you a gift?" Jill replied, winking with her stunning grey eyes.

Fake Claire took a quick glance at the inside of the bag, there was a big white jar and some other mysterious things wrapped up in paper. "What is it?"

Rebecca beamed at him and, grasping his arm, she pulled him towards the staircase. "Something to use in the bathroom" she singed.

Despite Lily's insisting invitations to remain downstairs and have a snack, in the end real Chris had to give up to his enthusiastic friends and headed upstairs, right after a reassuring glance at his alarmed mother. As to say_ I can handle it._

But he had no idea of what awaited him, unlike Lily who had guessed exactly what was going to happen and, according to her, it was of no good for her son.

They were in Girly Room and real Chris fully opened the paper bag. A body scrub. They had brought him a whole big jar of body scrub. He recalled all his sister's explanations about skin care products and he guessed it was something with oil and salt mixed together.

"A body scrub? Why?" He asked, trying to sound amused.

The two girls exchanged a quick glance and a determination imbued nod.

"Because you need to feel good, Claire. You deserve a moment to take care of yourself." Jill answered, smiling softly.

"Thanks but... you didn't have to... I'm good." He lamely replied.

Rebecca came closer to him and, with the sweetest and gentlest hug he had ever received by someone who wasn't his sister, she pulled him in her embrace and muttered on his shoulder "I know you're hiding me something, and I know I can't force you to open your heart to me. But I won't just stay here looking at you while doing nothing! You're not good and you won't get rid of me that easy. I'm here to take care of you anyway, no matter how you lie at my face."

Hearing those stern words yet muttered with sweetness, fake Claire sighed and hugged her a little tighter. "Thanks Becky." He whispered. "I appreciate that."

Too many mixed feelings were storming in his heart in that moment. He was deeply moved by their little act of kindness but he felt sad too. Rebecca was surely suffering for her friend's sudden standoffish attitude, and he was sure she was missing the old Claire so bad, and to make things even worse, the poor girl didn't even know why her friend was so strange and different, she could only miss her and get no answers to her questions. She didn't deserve it. And surely even Jill had the same worries, even if she didn't let transpire much of them. The most he could do to help them back was to share a bit of his time with them and try to reassure the girls that Claire Redfield was fine.

"Let's go to the bathroom!" Becky exclaimed while pulling away, trying to hide with an exaggerated smile the small tears that had formed in her green eyes. "It's spa time!"

Real Chris smiled at her and pulled her back in his hug once more, reaching with an arm to welcome Jill too. His sister was a lucky girl and he couldn't have been happier that she had such precious and loyal friends in her life. He knew Claire would be just caring and lovely with her friends as well and, as now he was her, his duty was to take care of the girls his sister loved so much. He owed it to her.

The three of them went in the bathroom and there the two guests started to get undressed. Real Chris was confused. Suddenly the air seemed to get warmer and he could feel his cheeks burn like fire. He looked at them undecided about what to do.

Determined to act as natural as possible, he started to undress too, hoping the blush on his face wouldn't be too evident. He casually pulled off his clothes but was aware only of the fact that... he had no clue about what was really happening. He could just acknowledge that the room was getting definitely too hot for him.

He had to gulp down hard when the girls started to pull off their underwear too.

No, that room had become a true sauna by now, but he was sweating cold.

"Come on, Claire!" Becky said throwing her panties on the sink and, grabbing a hair comb and using it as a microphone, she added, gesturing like a salesman "come on ladies! the _RedChambentine_ spa is opening!"

"The fuck of a name is that?!" Jill laughed while unclipping Becky's bra.

"It's a _portmanteau_." Rebecca pointedly explained, using her forefinger as a wand, waving it to rhythm her spelling. "Of our last names, my dear _Valentine_."

"It sounds stupid." Jill replied with a funny grimace "nobody would ever pay to go to a spa named like that!"

"Oh, but we're _free_... and by the way this is such a classy name" the brunette winked, helping her friend with her bra too "it sounds so French..."

"Remind me not to get into business with you." Jill joked pulling her panties down. "You have a twisted idea of what good marketing is."

In a blink of an eye two fully naked girls were standing in front of him while tugging their hair into a pair of floral shower caps. Their slender, creamy bodies were just one foot away from him, their breasts bounced delicately at each movement, their butts looked so... Real Chris shuddered inwardly. They looked so sexy. Too sexy.

In that moment he felt all the weight of his condition. His masculinity was howling like a pack of wolves on a full moon night, while all around him the bathroom turned into a volcano throwing flames and burning the air. He had never missed his dick more than he was by then. Though he was aware that being in a female body, his hot inner thoughts wouldn't have been betrayed by an inopportune boner.

He took advantage of their little quarrel to muster a plan to get out of that situation with grace. That wasn't like having a needed, unavoidable, hygienic shower in his sister's naked body, which he had grown pretty accustomed to. That was about being naked with her friends, her girl friends! Girls he had to meet the following day at school. He would've never been able to look at them again without picturing those breath-taking bodies in his mind.

He turned towards the sink as if he would have found his plan in there, but that usual fucking mirror fooled him once more reflecting an enthralling vision.

_Oh, fuck you! Is it ever possible that a stupid mirror would always have the best of me?_

"C'mon, Claire! Sicily's lemons essential oil scrub is waiting for us!" Rebecca exclaimed, hugging the poor fake girl from the back, while Jill stepped in the shower tray, stirring the lumpy mixture with a wooden spoon.

Real Chris had to gulp down a gasp as he felt her nipples squashed on his back. And another one when the girl playfully slapped his buttock and kissed him on the hair. He giggled nervously and nodded as he adjusted the shower cap on his head, wondering if his sister usually did that kind of stuff with her friends.

That was another thing about girls that genuinely amazed him: they have such an intimate way to live their friendships, a confidence that almost equals sisters' one. With his boy friends it wasn't quite like that. At all. Three naked boys under the same shower, massaging, hugging and caressing each other was absolutely... No way.

"Y-yeah..." he sheepishly stuttered, pulling down his own panties.

_It's ok, Chris. Don't be embarrassed. They're girls. You are a girl... They already know your body... They have your same body..._

He was naked. He couldn't believe that one of his wildest, most forbidden dreams was materialising in front of his eyes and he was so fucking unlucky that he couldn't make it come really true: two astonishing naked girls with him in the shower, all touching and rubbing and tickling and not only he couldn't fuck them, but also he had to pretend he wasn't horny as fuck!

Fuck. Indeed.

* * *

Their work had gained the features of a real essay, enough long and enough well written to make the three guys feel satisfied about it, even if it took them more than one hour to accomplish it. Real Claire didn't have to struggle at all to make the others work. They parted tasks and soon they were all working like a real, experienced team. Real Chris had reassured her that Carlos and Kevin were actually two good guys, despite their weirdnesses, but her anxiety didn't let her relax until the printer spitted out two warm sheets with their essay on it.

"Uff…" Carlos huffed, wiping an imaginary sweat off his forehead "can't quite believe we did it!"

"Yeah…" real Claire sighed, giving one last check to the papers before stoving them off in her bag. History grades were safe. Until next test.

"Hey, Leon and Piers are coming over. They'll be here in minutes." Kevin said while tapping on the screen of his phone. "we deserve a _goooood_ gaming session now."

"Wait, weren't we supposed to study for the English test too?" Fake Chris asked.

"Nah..." Kevin and Carlos said in unison after a quick glance at each other. They had had enough studying for that day.

* * *

Some pop music was playing while they started smearing their bodies with the smelly mixture. Chris had to look at them to understand how to do what Claire had surely done many times before at their presence. But he just had a so fucking hard time at focusing. His sight would always fall over those breasts and curves. Never ever he had thought that one day he would've thought there were too many tits and pinkish nipples around him.

Although girls' moves had nothing erotic per se, he was arousing fast, and he couldn't help it. He feared they might have read his arousal, he feared he couldn't manage to conceal it. Rebecca had proved herself to be pretty skilled in reading fake Claire's mind through his face.

What if they figured out the truth? He had literally got naked, uncovered himself before them, he was scared some other truths could come out, like his nocturnal, erotic, secret encounters with his sister's reflection.

With his skin fully exposed, with his - _her - _nudities uncovered, he felt vulnerable. Maybe that was what real Claire felt when _he_ had to take his first shower as her. Vulnerable and exposed.

He felt sorry for her, as now he could relate to her and a mild smile appeared on his gorgeous face at the remembrance of his sister's embarrassment. He crossed his arms around his chest as to hug himself. As to hug her.

_Claire, honey…_

* * *

Real Claire was too tired to focus on killing zombies and running away from misshapen monsters and, after having made the virtual hero die many times, she just tossed the controller on the couch and leaned back, idly rubbing at her hazel brown eyes.

_Fucking migraine._

"Hey Leon! HA HA HAAA… Look! That dude has your same hairstyle!" Carlos shouted, laughing his ass off in front of the big screen. "Someone in Capcom has been stealing your playboy vibes!"

"Yeah…" the blond boy laughed "I should sue 'em! How is that thing called… copyright infringement!"

"Ha ha haaa… you can ask them to hire you for the next one! You know… motion capture and all that shit!" Kevin suggested, pensively quirking an eyebrow, as if he was really entertaining the idea of prosecuting a multi-millionaire Japanese company.

"Oh, and don't forget to ask for some sexy ladies once you get there! I've had enough of steroids-fed male characters! I want to kill zombies in a woman's body! Someone with big boobs, shaking ass and all." Carlos added excited.

"Speak for yourself!" Piers snorted "I'm not done with buff heroes at all!"

"Uhm… if they'd put a wig on you…" Kevin mumbled, squinting his eyes and looking up and down at Leon, chin caught in his fingers "you could play the blondie girl to rescue too!"

Leon raised his middle finger and fucked them all off. Everyone in the room was laughing except for fake Chris who, instead, kept her sombre frown well settled on her manly face. And Leon noticed.

"Hey buddy…" he said, standing up from the sofa "what about a cigarette?"

Fake Chris hadn't the time to respond that Kevin yelled a loud "go outside! Mommy doesn't allow people to smoke inside!" waving his hand without looking away from the tv, ignoring Carlos' scoff at that _Mommy_.

Honestly, she wanted to get rid of the guys for a bit, and the idea of some fresh air truly entertained her, maybe it would have eased her mind. She followed Leon on the kitchen balcony, closing the door window behind herself.

* * *

Real Chris _had to_ discover how much was displaying on his face, how many thoughts were evident. Maybe... maybe for the first time that mirror would've been useful.

He turned towards the glass, to look right in his sister's eyes. Again, his breath was taken away...

In front of him there stood not one, but three girls, completely undressed in such a small space, focused on massaging each other and joking all the while. But most importantly, there was _that_ look again, on _that_ girl. The girl that every night would tease him and arouse him up to a fulfilling orgasm with her enchanting body. And face. And eyes. And lips. And...

A sudden, forbidden fantasy tickled his mind. A fantasy made of his sister, naked and sweaty, all tangled up with her girls who ravished her right in front of him.

It was quite instinctive.

A small, insignificant gesture but enough to draw him back to reality: as he saw _her _nip at her lower lip, in the same naughty way she did anytime she was about to expose herself to his enjoyment, he slammed his eyelids closed, to prevent himself from further indulging in that vision. He tried to reason. It wasn't the right time, nor the right place.

_Don't look at her. There are other people. Claire loves them. Don't act stupid. Self-control, Chris. You'll see it later. Not now Chris. It's like a shower. Focus on something else._

He opened his eyes again and tried to do as his mind suggested. The shower cap. Only in that moment he noticed how ridiculous their caps were. Shower caps are definitely the least sexy thing in the whole universe. His even had some cartoonish ducks printed on. At least it caused him to giggle.

"It's so good to hear you laugh!" Becky said cheerfully, inwardly moved by that little spark of joy her friend was showing.

"The cap you bought me... is so ugly and silly" he chuckled.

"But if you said you love ducks!" Becky protested, sarcastically placing both her fists on her hips.

"Maybe she misspelled. Maybe she meant she loves dicks." Jill deadpanned, in such a serious tone that it turned out being even funnier than a well thought joke. In fact they all laughed, real Chris included.

_No, I really don't love dicks. At all. But Claire does, even more than usual lately, as she has her own private one by now. Mine._

Just a little bit more at ease, he was going to turn again and face them when he felt a big handful of mixture being splashed on his back. Becky was smearing his back, drawing wide circles with her hand, accurately exfoliating his skin.

That was comfortable. He liked that. Being massaged was so pleasant.

"Laughter and self-care are the cure, baby!" Becky exclaimed.

"Please, Claire, would you do the same to me?" Jill asked with her smooth, soothing, silky voice, turning her back towards the fake girl.

He took some mixture in his palm and started stroking the girl's back. Jill's skin was so soft he wondered if it really needed any scrubbing. Evidently he was pretty good at it as Jill curved her back and reclined her head, and he felt her unwind under his touch. His sight caressed the deep curve of her waist, the halo of her ribs under the pale skin, ascended again to her shoulders and precipitated down her spine to her butt, so round and so tight.

Highly rapt by his doing, he didn't notice how close he had become to her back or how long were his thin, curious fingers indulging and penetrating in the cleft between her butt cheeks, until the girl exclaimed with a jolly laugh "heheheyy! You humping me?"

Chris was taken aback by that and, as waking up from a daydream, he winced and took a little step back. Dammit. What was he doing?!

_It's Jill, you asshole! And you're Claire! Fuck!_

Trying to defuse the embarrassment, he lamely joked at his own awkward, out of place arousal "Haha... yeah?"

Jill laughed pretty loudly and shook her head "Sorry honey! You're not my kind!"

"Yeah... guess I'm the wrong Redfield" fake Claire winked with his eyebrows. Even though, inside, real Chris felt a bit annoyed and frowned inwardly. If he were the _right_ Redfield nothing would have spared the brunette a massive dose of his fat dick, stuck between those buttocks, plowing her like there's no tomorrow.

Jill stuck out her tongue and ignored the tease and just kept joking "if you want to go lesbian why don't you try it again with Moira and leave my poor ass alone?"

Real Chris widened his blue eyes and gasped in air but couldn't say anything. His mind started running fast. Go lesbian? Again? Had his sister had lesbian sex?! With her friend? Was Jill joking? Was it true?

He couldn't ask.

Damn, that was a hell of a revelation! He'd have never guessed his sister would've done something like that. He couldn't help thinking that his fantasy of just few minutes before had already become real once. Claire naked with a girl... Claire kissing a girl... Claire moaning under the languid licks of a girl.

Feeling that he was falling again in his spiral of indecent thoughts, he shook his head as to dispel it, but that hot daydream would've haunted him for the rest of the day.

And for the whole night, too.

* * *

The sight from that apartment was breath-taking. The sun had already set but the air was still brightened by a straw yellow glow. Only few other buildings were as high as the one they were in and they were all quite distant, rising up from the ground like gigantic white pillars sprayed with rambling plants. It was all roofs, trees, streets, cars and, in the distance, the contour of the Arklay Mountains.

Leon offered her a cigarette and passed her the lighter. Real Claire realised only in that moment that she had to muster an excuse to avoid smoking. But she didn't find any. She was too tired to strain her brain to invent things. She picked the small roll of tobacco and, tugged it between her lips, she lighted it.

_After all, Chris' lungs are already screwed._

She coughed a bit but got to feign it as a normal cough. She handed the lighter back and leaned over the banister, resting her elbows on the steel tube.

The two boys smoked silently for a while. Leon standing up, few steps behind her, back leaned against the window, a look of concern embroidered on his face. He stared at his friend, standing in front of him with her back curved down and head low. Her every whiff of smoke was a quiet sigh.

Real Claire was trying to send away all the torments of a long school day that attempted to surface and torture her mind. Day by day it was getting harder and harder for her to remain calm, to keep faking, pretending to move like a boy, to think like a boy, to laugh and burp and fart like a boy, and now even to smoke like a boy.

Fortunately, she had seen her brother smoke a trillion times, thus she was able to replicate pretty accurately the way he grabbed the cigarette and blew away the white stinky vapour by his just slightly parted lips, letting it idly graze them before ascending to the sky.

She had begun to loathe being in situations where she had to play the Chris role and was forced to eclipse her being Claire, to have to deny and overshadow herself. Only when home she was free to be the girl she was, if not in the outer appearance, at least in her behaviour, her thinking and speaking and moving. But on that balcony she had to pretend and all she wanted was to fuck off back home and try to forget that shit of a day, the last one of a long series of shitty days, maybe even with a good wank right under the shower.

"Hey man…" Leon said softly, taking place beside his friend by the bannister, turning his back towards the panorama. "are you alright?"

"Yeah." fake Chris groaned absentmindedly, letting out a ruffle of smoke.

"You sure?" Leon insisted.

"I said yes." the big _boy_ grunted.

Leon lowered his gaze to the below tiles and took another drag. "If you… if you need to talk…"

Fake Chris grunted angrily, gritting her teeth and tossed away the cigarette, launching it from the sixth floor. She grabbed tightly the bannister until her knuckles turned white. All her frustration needed to be roared out but she knew she had to continue to lie at other people's faces. She wanted to scream. She wanted to follow that fucking cigarette and pierce a whole in the ground until the fucking centre of the Earth with her bare hands.

She closed her eyes trying to recover her cool.

_Breathe in… breathe out…_

"Chris. I'm not the only one that noticed you've been acting so weird lately… and you're tired. You always look so fucking tired" Leon continued.

He had made up his mind to force his friend to confide his troubles. Because Leon could've bet his balls that Chris was in some kind of trouble he wouldn't or couldn't talk about. "I just want you to know that whatever may be happening to you, you can trust me, just like I know I can trust you. You know, you helped me so many times in the past… now it's my turn to try to be helpful."

Fake Chris just stood up there, with his hands firmly gripping at the railing and her head facing the overhanging. Metaphorically, that position somehow homaged what she was feeling inside: she was on the edge of the cliff and she could've fallen any time if she didn't fight with all her strength to prevent fucking panic from assaulting her once more.

"I… Chris, I just hope it's not about something I may have done without realizing it… I'd never be disrespectful towards you. If it's about me, please tell me." Leon whispered, fearing that his friend might have been pissed off with him for having tried to kiss his sister few days before, maybe Claire had told him everything.

Poor Leon, if only he knew the truth! The boy in front of him knew perfectly everything that had occurred on that veranda, only detail: that guy was everything but the boy he supposed to be.

Fake Chris saddened even more, she understood what the blond's fears were about. That fucking situation was not only destroying her mental health, her bowels and her life but was even causing tons of grief to people that surrounded them and loved and cared about them. Leon was one of those. And he was suffering immensely.

The boy, so loyal and sincere, thought it was him somehow, if not the main cause, at least one of the reasons of his friend's sorrow.

"If I did anything wrong, whatever it may be, I'm sorry." Leon murmured heartbroken.

Real Claire couldn't hold back anymore. She was the cause of Leon's sorrow, and she hated herself for it. He didn't deserve it.

She burst into tears as she heard the boy's apologies.

But she didn't cry like a boy. She would _never_ cry like a boy. In moments of big discouragement like that, when she was most vulnerable, there her being a girl would resurface and the fake guy would disappear.

Leon looked at his sobbing friend who covered her mouth with a hand while the other one would try to catch her heart and press on the centre of her chest as to calm her maddening pulse, she squeezed her tears filled eyes and furrowed her brows in an expression of pure grief and desperation, while trying to hide her face from his sight.

It was such an unusual vision. Leon had never seen Chris cry, but surely he didn't expect that the big badass boy of Chris Redfield would do it that way.

There was something in _his_ feminine crying, however, that moved him profoundly, tickling his most emphatic side, thus, when a beaten fake Chris turned to throw herself in his arms, Leon was found standing with his arms already wide open, ready to welcome his friend in his hug.

Fake Chris was taller than Leon and, certainly, bigger and more robust but, nevertheless, she let herself draw in his embrace, sobbing hard and grinding his torso with her out of control strong grip.

Her whole big body was shaking, in the throes of her desperation, exhaustion and sorrow. She couldn't help the frantic twitching of her sobbing chest.

Leon gave her some little pats on her back, whispering comforting words with the little air that grip left in his lungs, but it seemed that his cares had no effect on his friend. Instead of diminishing her whines, they just grew louder so much so that she started soon to tremble so terribly that Leon was forced to make her accommodate on the only little stool present on the balcony. Now Leon was truly terrified. That reaction was alarming him.

_Chris. The hell is going on with you?_

Real Claire had by then abandoned herself crying her eyes out and, although she hadn't forgot she had to pretend being Chris, she was too broken to think that grabbing Leon's hand and pulling him closer to hug him just like she was doing on that stool, placing her big bearded head against the other boy's abdomen, was something totally out of place and inopportune, it was unlike Chris. Real Chris would've never done it. And Leon knew that.

Despite the strangeness of that position, the boy continued to try to comfort his friend and to help him overcoming what he was certain being a panic attack. He wasn't succeeding at all, alone as he was, maybe the help of the other guys could've been resolutive, especially from a sensitive guy as his cousin Piers, whom Leon relied on a lot, but he'd never left Chris alone on that balcony in that condition. Not that he really feared Chris could've committed any insanity, but his own nature prohibited him to leave alone someone suffering and needing for help.

After a while, it seemed his cares managed to pierce a hole in the crying crisis of his friend and fake Chris slowly calmed down, weeping quietly at first, before stopping completely and staring at the floor silently. She was now dramatically assaulted by the shame she had exposed her brother and his reputation to with such a pathetic scene.

Leon bowed beside her and, placing his hand on her round thick shoulder, he said "Buddy, now I'm sure you're really going through something _big_. But I know you, and I know what kind of a fucking stubborn dickhead you are and that you won't tell me anything. I just implore you to swear me that, whatever it is that makes you suffer this way, there's someone you've talked with and that you're _not_ facing it alone."

Fake Chris sniffled and nodded coyly.

"Swear it." the blonde insisted with a serious, resolute tone, shaking her shoulder.

"I swear. We're not alone." She languished at him with a slightly broken voice.

"W-we?!" Leon stuttered, taken aback.

Fake Chris bit her tongue and mentally cursed herself for having been that incautious. Leon would've never guessed it concerned both her and Chris, there was no need to reveal that.

Leon didn't like to hear that. At all. He hated hearing that Claire was in the same shit that had just almost made his best friend have a heart attack.

He stood up and remained silent for few seconds, clenching his jaw closed, before spelling an earnest "Is Claire this bad too?"

Fake Chris didn't muster the courage to look at her friend in that moment. The tone and the faint flickering in his voice were more than enough to make her feel bad for him once more. Before she could even open her mouth, the blond resumed speaking in a wrathful, shaky voice.

"Chris, dammit! If you want to keep your secrets from your friends, you're welcome. Do whatever your motherfucking head commands, but if your shit is hurting Claire..." Leon's voice flickered for his ire and he fell silent again. He leaned against the bannister with his eyes clutched on a grievous face, gritting his teeth for the rush of anger that pulsed through his veins in that moment. He had to relent his wrath, as flaming on his friend after a crisis like that was of no use. He calmed down his tone and added solemnly "You said you'd die for your sister. You must accept to be helped, whatever is fucking with your lives. If you're too proud to accept to be helped... then do it for her!"

Fake Chris' lips pursed into a faint smile, more a shadow of the inner warmth induced by that caring scolding than a real smile.

Nevertheless, she had to relent his worries somehow.

"She... uh... she's stronger than me." She lastly sighed, flinching at the wavering in her own voice and at how lame she sounded.

"Swear to me you're helping her!" He muttered, shaking his head.

"I try to do my best..." she whispered with a shrug. She raised her gaze and looked at him. "I really do…"

"She's in good hands then." Leon said trying to alleviate fake Chris grievous expression and to defuse the tension his scolding aroused.

The two of them had another cigarette, this time even Claire enjoyed it just a little bit, before walking back inside the apartment.

While Leon opened the window door, fake Chris said "Leon… just one thing… about what happened… don't mention it to the others. I don't want them to worry more."

Leon smiled and nodded "You don't even have to ask. But if you'll ever change your mind, you can rely on us. You know that."

"Thank you ever so much, my friend."

"I wished I could do more to help you, _brother_."

* * *

In the end, among torments, shyness, girls talking about periods, bras sizes, boys, hair lotions, schoolmates and many other feminine topics, real Chris made it out alive.

He had never been that interested in gossip in his whole short life, as it helped him to ignore how fucking wet he was.

He focused at his best on their chit chat succeeding to not provoke too much his aroused self _and _involuntarily deceive the girls making them believe he was a quite normal Claire and that their cares had been a success.

Albeit the two girls believed fake Claire was having his deserved dose of relax, he was actually getting tired to death, as focused as he was in playing his girl role and repressing his instincts.

Once their skins had been properly exfoliated, they rinsed away the oily layer and applied a moisturizer.

They finally headed back to Girly Room wrapped in big towels, the fake girl eager to burrow in his bed and do absolutely nothing. He frowned and rolled his eyes when he saw them pull out of the bag some nail polish bottles, as he had naively believed girlish time was over.

_Oh, c'mon! You must be kidding me!_

As the chatty girls left, Lily ran upstairs and found her son in Girly Room, outstretched on the pink bed, with only his lace underwear on, his auburn long hair spread all over the pillow and some wadding among his toes to let the nail polish dry up.

Lily knew that it was usual that her daughter would invite her girls home for that kind of stuff but she also knew that it wasn't _her daughter_ this time and... that her son was a boy. A boy attracted by girls. A boy who knew he had to pretend to be a girl. A boy who would fall apart even not to make others suffer, especially his sister.

She had tried to spare him such a difficult situation, but unsuccessfully.

He lazily turned his head towards her and covered his eyes with a hand "hey Mom..." he whispered, a low tremor suffusing his voice.

Lily couldn't curb a malicious yet melancholic little grin.

"Do they do it often?" He asked.

"You mean being naked together and be so... girlish?" She chuckled without putting much effort in sounding amused.

He nodded under his hand.

"Girls take skin care pretty seriously, honey." She tried to joke, cringing at how corny it sounded. She leaned closer and sat on the edge of the bed and caressed his long ruffled tendrils_. Oh, little boy..._

With a sweet whisper, she asked "how was it?"

Chris didn't know what to answer. Did she want to know if he got horny around not only two but _three_ naked and hot female bodies? If he felt shivers anytime they brushed his skin? Did she want to know if that body scrub worked? If it smelled good? Did she want to know if her daughter's friends acted naughty when showering together? Did she want to know if _he _acted naughty when naked? If her daughter had incredibly hot sex with another girl? If he would touch himself to death at such a fantasy?

"I'm wrecked." He sternly replied.

Lily's smile became even more melancholic and she bowed to leave a small peck on his forehead "I'm sorry, little boy..." she whispered.

He forced an unconvinced smile "it's ok, Mom."

She left the room, closing silently the door and descended downstairs once more, eyes filling up with sorrowful tears for how worried she was about her son and his having to get intimate with female nudity in such an unnatural way.

* * *

She needed Chris. Coming home from Kevin's seemed to never end. When the bus that had brought her back in her neighbourhood stopped, she got off running, and running she went home.

Towards her shelter. _Chris_.

As if she somehow expected to find him there, she went straight to Girly Room and found him standing up in the middle of the bedroom, topless, in cute panties, with his bra laying on the ground before his small feet.

"Claire!" He flinched, surprised by her sudden appearance and, hastily picking up the little piece of fabric from the floor, he hurried to explain "I... I was going to grab a m-more comfortable one..."

But she ignored everything he said and simply bucked towards that barenaked slim body and tugged it in her embrace, holding him tight, but being careful not to squeeze him too much lest to hurt his breasts.

Real Chris raised on his toes and stroked her curved shoulders, downcast with the certainty that his sister had had a disastrous day.

"Why do you smell like dish soap?" She muttered while sinking her face in his auburn loose hair.

He sighed and briefly told her about his last tiring experience with the girls.

"Well... at least your skin is smoothest now..." she said, trying to look at the bright side of it, while trailing a finger down his spine.

"Yeah... it is..." he sighed.

Without letting that petite body go, she pulled him towards the bed, lifted him, grabbing him by his buttocks and climbed on it, with her naked brother clung to her muscular body. In few seconds they were tangled in a sweet Redfield roll.

Fake Claire laid down on his back, with his legs spread open and fake Chris' portly body outstretched between them. The fake boy lowered her head and rested it on his prosperous cleavage, holding that feminine barenaked body with her brawny arms, while fake Claire draped his around her broad muscular torso and stroked it gently, while streaming dainty, pinkish fingers through her short dark strands.

They were shattered, but they were together, at the end of a wrecking day. That's why their usual sick attitude and role play started again.

"My boobs are so smooth right now!" She sighed grazing his breasts with her lips.

"Yes they are! That thing works!" He replied, gently squeezing one of his tits with his hand. The chill air brushed his bare skin and he felt his rosy nipples get turgid under his palm and fingers. He kept kneading his boob for a bit before chuckling "wanna kiss it?"

"Mmh?" She questioned, raising a dubious, amused brow but keeping her haggard brown eyes lazily closed.

"You know... it turned out that you seem to like boobs..." he suggested, pushing the tit against her bearded muzzle.

"What do you mean?" She laughed, not seeing what he meant.

"Jill told me you had sex with Moira..." he whispered in a hot, seductive tone that had the only result to arouse him and annoy her.

Real Claire rolled her eyes. _Shit. He knows._

"It happened ages ago." She cut off with a breathy huff, as she was too tired to confront her brother's jealousy.

"How was it?" He asked.

She growled out a laugh and dipped her head in his cleavage even more. She decided to dodge the question with irony. "Mmmmh... my boyfriend's tits are better than hers."

"Oh c'mooooon! I'm curious! Tell me more!" He incited, not willing to accept any refusal to share her hot secret with him.

She sighed and replied, spelling her words lazily and against his tender skin. "I didn't like it that much."

"Honey. You're _boyfriend_ here is asking for details! Gimme details!" He insisted, laughing loudly.

She hummed a laugh in her throat "why? Isn't he jealous?"

"Of a girl? Not at all! Geez, Claire! Lesbian sex is so damn hot! I watch tons of lesbian porn!"

"Well then... we did it in this very bed." She said, slowly, putting on a raw, warm, tantalizing voice and whispering her words as to deliberately provoke his arousal. "We were naked... and close. And curious. And wet."

"Woah!" He replied astonished, picturing the scene in his mind.

"She just confessed me she was lesbian. I was curious to know if I was too..."

"How old were you?"

"Fourteen."

"Mh... little naughty girl" he joked "aaaaand...?"

"And nothing, honey. We kissed. A lot. But I just didn't feel the same pleasure as her. I'm just not lesbian." She shrugged.

"But Jill said _sex_..." he mumbled, confused.

She raised her masculine head and put up one of her brother's typical sly smirks "Moira licked my pussy up to orgasm. But I had to think of Leon to come. Jill knows even that but as Rebecca was there with you..." She shrugged, aware that such a confession would have triggered him. _You wanted to know? Now you do._

Real Chris frowned a bit and snorted, gaining an amused laugh from his sister who kissed his collarbone and joked "don't be jealous honey, that's not cheating. That was before you."

"I know... but still I'd pay tons of money to see my girl fuck another girl. Mmmh..." He said, accompanying his last words with a sexy little moan.

"Next time I'll be mating with a girl I'll call you then, so you can watch me." She whispered hotly.

The conversation had definitely become pretty nasty, once more. But that was alright for them as long as it made them feel a little better. That day had been a true emotional roller coaster, especially for real Claire who agonized the whole morning in a seemingly endless swirl of tension, then had a little relief when her brother approached her in the school cafeteria, then again a whole afternoon of just anguish and a panic attack on a balcony, then that little chat. Lots of hurt and sparkles of comfort, all day. She was exhausted.

They shared a bit of relaxed, comfortable silence during which real Chris just kept caressing her and she kept nuzzling his breasts and engulfing him in her wide, strong embrace.

"I'm sorry I screwed your wank" she said in a low, guttural voice after a while "But I missed you."

Real Chris let out a quiet laugh. "Nevermind, honey. I have all the night for that. I missed you too." And bowed his neck to leave a precious kiss on her head. "Tell me about your day."

Real Claire rose her head and shifted her whole body upwards, that bit enough to take his round cheek in one hand and fondly kiss him on the other cheek.

"It's not important. It's over." She whispered.

She didn't want to add her own problems to his. She actually wanted to leave all behind and forget.

After all, he could easily guess what her day had been like. He perfectly knew about her panic issues and all the rest.

"'Bout Leon..." she sadly sighed "you're so lucky you know? He's such a good friend! He worries so much about you, Chris. And I'm so sorry for him..."

Real Chris' expression saddened. All their friends were worrying. "I know... you're lucky too. Becky would even never stop talking but... she's a true angel."

"I wish I could spare them all of this... I mean, I can deal with this shit, but I don't want them to worry for me." she sighed.

"Me too."

They just kept exchanging soft kisses on the cheeks and delicate caresses for a little while, before she spoke again.

"You look so tired, honey." She added stroking his face with the pad of her thumb and looking straight at his weary blue eyes "Those dark circles..."

He tried a laugh "good to know my girlfriend thinks I'm still sexy after a hard day!"

She giggled too and let her bearded head collapse on the crook of his charming neck, humming on his skin "I'm sure I look as wrecked as you too!"

"_Those dark circles _though..." he mocked.

She laughed more heartedly this time and tightened her grip on him. "I didn't sleep at all last night..."

"Bad dreams?" He whispered, enfolding her head within his arms, as to protect her from the misery that surrounded them.

"You can't have nightmares if you're awake."

"Mmmh... outstanding move!" he joked "my girl is a genius!"

"And my man is a dork! I didn't it on purpose!" She replied. "I just couldn't sleep. And now I'm pooped but it's almost dinner time."

"If it can make you feel better, just know that I slept only a couple of hours..." real Chris said.

She raised her head once more and locking her hazel brown intense eyes to his impossibly blue ones, she whispered with her low, growling voice "how is that ever supposed to make me feel better?"

* * *

Long silly chapter for a silly fanfiction. My brain will let me rest now.

I just realised I still haven't done the mandatory disclaimer. As I don't want to begin any quarrel with any Japanese developer (_hold your horses, Ryman!_) I, a Fangirl, solemnly declare that Chris, Claire, Leon, Jill and all the rest are awesome characters who belong to Capcom.

If they were mine, instead, I would produce a good RE game where Claire rescues Chris from zombies and happily fuck together in every single cinematic scene (yes, Code Veronica, I'm looking at you).


	12. Spiralling Out, in Crescendo

Ok, I'm totally out of my usual weekly update time. Sorry beautiful people! Hope this chapter makes up for the lateness!

**LITTLE DISCLAIMER:** (_that_) Piers' scene (his _reasoning_ and attitude tbh) was inspired me by a true scene I witnessed myself some time ago on a similar party. I just kinda changed the names and locations. And outcome. Eh eh.

Oh, and unfortunately I was sober.

And I wasn't a Redfield.

And the guy was definitely not Piers.

* * *

**CHAPTER 11 - Spiralling Out, in Crescendo**

It was Friday afternoon and the two siblings were gearing up for Carlos's birthday party. Getting dressed and dolled up turned out being an unexpectedly difficult feat. Especially for real Chris. His sister, in fact, after several attempts, had succeeded to make him wear a cute red dress and she was using her persuasiveness and ascendency on him to convince him to put on a pair of matching stiletto heels.

"Do you really want me to break both ankles, Claire?"

Real Claire caught her lower lip between her teeth and hinted a sly smile "Oh c'mon! It's less than two inches high… you won't break anything!"

"No way!" he retorted, folding his bare arms on his chest and sternly looking at her. He stomped out of the closet, underlining with firmness his zero intentions of giving in to her caprices, as for Chris, all that solicitude for compelling him to wear skimpy clothes, push-up bra, seamless lace thong, was just a useless, inopportune whim.

"At least try 'em!" Claire snorted, following him outside the closet into Girly Room.

"No!" he exclaimed, determined not to let her persuade him like it happened for the dress, so short that he had no idea how to sit down without uncover his butt-cheeks.

"Oh, please… do it for me!" real Claire said putting on a childish pout and batting her eyelashes in a very ridiculous way for that virile big face of hers.

_For her_?! Chris snorted exasperated. It wasn't _her_ to have to stand up on high heels for a whole night and, albeit he had never… _set foot_ in those things in his life, he didn't expect them to be comfy. Then again, the more he observed them the more they appeared being an infernal torture tool.

Chris sat down on the edge of the big pink bed, careless about that whilst doing it, his panties were showing. He let his back fall onto the mattress and sighed angrily.

Fake Chris was standing up before him, swinging a pair of black patent leather heels and staring at him expectantly. Real Claire knew that if she insisted just a little bit more, he'd have lastly given up. But she didn't know, or perhaps she refused to notice, that her brother was annoyed and running out of patience.

Chris was deeply uncomfortable. Now, that situation was weighing on him even more than usual and only because Claire was obstinated. If going to school wasn't problematic as it meant basically jeans and shirts, and that was fine, for that damned party it seemed essential to wear that dress, that made him feel… embarrassed. It was so adherent that it emphasized every curve of his body, to him it was like being naked. Not to mention that deep V neck! Hello no! He had no intention of spending the night slapping horny guys that stared at his tits.

_Her_ tits.

He suddenly felt a pair of big hands grasping his ankle and he rose his head to meet the sight of fake Chris trying to put his tiny foot in that damned shoes.

"You're never giving up, uh?" he sighed and, resignated, he let her slip on both shoes.

He wasn't able to walk in heels at all. He tried but he would just stumble and wave clumsily, gaiting like a drunken chicken.

In the end, Claire was forced to take note of reality and handle her brother a pair of more comfortable shoes.

Real Chris had won the first battle, thus they were even, but to win the war he had to trump her attempts to put some makeup on his face.

"Just a little lipstick!" she said, uncapping the tiny black package.

"No way!" he bluntly replied.

"But it matches the dress!" She pointed out matter-of-factly.

"I couldn't care less!"

"Why you so picky? Don't you want to look hot?"

"I already look hot, Claire. You know that." Real Chris replied with an eye roll, fastly getting a bit too much pissed off.

"Uff... I just want to help you being ready for tonight!"

"I don't need your help, I can dress by myself!" he yelled.

"Ok! Ok! Sorry!" Real Claire replied rising both hands, as she was pissing off too and, feigning a bow, she added mocking a British accent "I won't bother Her Majesty anymore! Forgive a poor lad, my Queen!"

"Don't call me that. I'm a man!" He squealed, piercing her with a furious stare "I don't need your fucking beauty advice! I don't even need you! I'M NOT YOUR FUCKING SISTER!"

The echo of those screamed words dissolved in the sudden deathly silence fallen on the room. If Chris was fuming in ire, the atmosphere around him was rather glacial. It took a little, a simple discussion, to deflagrate the tension that had accumulated and had accompained them through the whole afternoon. In that very moment he had lashed out three whole weeks of repressed rage and he had done it in the worst of possible ways: rounding on his sister.

Real Claire hummed a quiet "ok" whilst slowly looking away from her words seemed to have mortified her and Chris felt an asshole of a brother because of it.

He didn't want to go out, to play the Claire Redfield role for the second time in a day, faking not to feel so unprotected in such a non-concealing dress, he was shattered and he couldn't go on anymore with that horrid life but he was sure Claire had not to pay the consequences of his frustration.

"I'm sorry" he murmured with a heartbroken tone, kneading at his neck, ready to put the makeup on as she wished. He reached with the hand to grab the lipstick from her but real Claire was faster in hiding it in her closed fist.

"No, Chris. You don't have to." she pensively replied, putting the cap on again and throwing it on the bed. "you're right, I guess. Maybe I'm treating you like a girl… but I don't mean it, believe me!" She approached him and intensely kissed his forehead. "Sorry, bro…"

"It's fine. Forget it, honey." he said, trying to hug her as much as he could but he only ended up feeling even more frustrated and inadequate as he couldn't get to hug her the way he wanted: fully and enfolding.

"I want you to feel good tonight." she whispered.

"Me too, sweetie. It's gonna be ugh… hard as fuck… but we can make it through."

Maybe it was because he was older than her and he had been to many more parties than her, or maybe it was because having been a boy he knew what awaited for him ahead now that he had to pretend being a girl, he knew what all the boys would've thought whilst putting their sights on _him_, the saucy comments, the horny glances and all, anyways, he was far more concerned than her.

"Just please… stay with me tonight, ok?" he implored, scowling at how damn weak he felt. Well, he wasn't her sister of course… nonetheless, he didn't feel being even her brother anymore. He hated that sudden need of protection, safety and reassurances. Maybe it was just because of the dress, or maybe just the stress, but he couldn't help it. Where had that lion of a boy of Chris Redfield gone?

* * *

They arrived at Carlos' at about nine, the party being already started. Their friend had invited almost half school! The house and the front garden were swarming with girls and boys and they could bet that the backyard was as well crowded. Was it a birthday or a damn wedding?

They parked the car afar as the nearby street sidewalks were already clogged with dozens of other cars and, as they approached the house, he gave his sister some little recommendations in the case they didn't manage to stay together for the whole party.

"Please, keep an eye on Piers for me" he said with sadness at the thought of not being able to spend the party with him and, in front of his sister's questioning gaze, he explained "he tends to get fucking wasted in these kind of parties… and if I weren't there to keep him at bay, he'd surely get himself in trouble."

In fact, he was the only person that Piers would listen to even if drunk as piss. Not that the guy would become violent or dangerous, at all. Instead, he became always… _affectionate_. Too affectionate. Towards anybody. As the ancient adage _in vino veritas_ says, the alcohol would uncover the true nature of people, and Piers would turn out being just a cute, sweet, little puppy eager to express his friendliness to everyone.

But not anybody would appreciate a drunk boy's ravings who, messing aroung dispensing kisses and hugs would often result just troublesome. He'd basically end up importuning the wrong person, the wrong girlfriend, the wrong not-enough-drunk straight guy. More than once his guardian angel of a Chris had barely averted a fistfight because of it.

On that party though that task was on Claire.

"If anybody threatens to start a fight with him, don't be afraid of using _my_ strength honey, ok?"

"Got it!" She nodded. _How difficult that might ever be?_

As they stepped in, they were welcomed by Sheva and Moira as the two girls were there too and, as soon as they spotted them, they caught fake Claire and took him away from fake Chris, literally crashing the _sticking together_ plan. Sheva in particular looked pretty agog to storm the poor boy's mind with a bucket of gossip and _OMG-you-won't-believe-who-I-met._

Neither fake Chris had a chance to escape his friends because soon she was kidnapped by Carlos' warm pats and dragged inside the house. Fake Chris had a busy time in waving at _friends_, some of which she had never seen before, and soon got a glass full of beer placed in his hand by a screaming Carlos.

"LET'S PAR-TAAAAAAAAAYYY! WHOOO HOOOO!" The party had just started and Carlos was already the worse for drink.

Both siblings got their drinks and soon the warmness induced by alcohol helped them relax and it even put a smile back on their faces.

But there was a little detail they weren't considering, or at least, that real Chris wasn't considering: he wasn't in his highly tolerant body anymore.

In fact, after only two glasses, real Chris was utterly drunk as he hadn't time to notice that the wine was making its way to his brain at the speed of light.

Real Claire, on the other hand, managed to tolerate beer much more, and got only a slight buzz. But she hadn't much time to focus on drinking, however, as she was too busy in politely getting rid of flirty girls that seemed to practice only the "_let's harass Chris Redfield"_ sport.

She hoped her brother had been luckier.

* * *

Real Chris was sloshed.

He passed from crowded rooms to other as well crowded rooms, waving at people and drinking wine, unaware of all the perplexed looks or mockery giggles he aroused.

He had lost sight of Sheva but he didn't care much. She had totally overwhelmed his mind with things he couldn't care less about. Even though, he had to admit, that gossip-in-the-shower session with Jill and Rebecca had been advantageous as he had a bit of background notions to understand a part of that, otherwise irrelevant, talking of his friend.

Once inside the living room, he spotted Moira sitting on a big (useless to say) crowded sofa. Stumbling on his feet a little, he walked towards her.

"MOIRAAAA!" He yelled, beaming a smile at the girl and throwing his palms up in the air. "My second favourite tombooooyyy!" And he gracelessly threw himself on her.

"The _second_?!" Moira asked jokingly, cringing and raising a brow and faking a jealous tone "who's the bitch that stole my place? Who's the first?!"

"It's Claire, of course!" He giggled, convinced he was pointing out the obvious.

He sat astride on the girl and threw his arms around her neck.

Moira laughed at his face for her friend addressing at _herself_ in third person. She's so blasted, the girl thought and started to move her legs up and down making him dandle like a toddler on his grandpa's lap. "You're my favourite tomboy too, Claire!" She replied.

"We have something in common then!" Fake Claire said while bouncing and laughing like the drunk girl he was, reclining his head back as it was suddenly too heavy and unstable for a neck that seemed turned into jelly.

"Nooo... why did you stop?" He protested.

"You're heavy." The girl shrugged.

"Pfffffff..." he scornfully sneered "I'm heavy my ass!"

"Yeah, your ass is heavy too!" Moira winked and slapped her butt.

"Fuckever." The fake girl replied and stole her drink, downing it in one single gulp.

"Hey! Hey! Claire! Easy! You're already too drunk!" Moira yelled, snatching the empty glass from her friend's hand and pushing her off of her legs and right with her ass onto the floor "if Chris sees you..."

Real Chris tried to sit up and shook his head laughing out spluttered words "Chrissss… he… fuck him. I do what I want!"

"Well, want something else than my drink then!" Moira snapped.

"Yeah, ssssooome-thing... else..." Fake Claire bluntly replied looking away.

* * *

Real Chris had managed to depart from Moira, after having offered an embarrassing show to all the attendants in the attempt to stand back on his feet from the carpet.

_The fuck you looking at motherfuckers?_

Maybe just you thong, Chris.

He headed to the kitchen to fill up his glass again. Nobody was there except for Leon who was picking up some food from the buffet.

"Hey... hi" Leon faintly said as he noticed the stumbling girl approaching.

"Heeeey buddyyy" he replied with a hazy voice.

"You got pretty damn drunk uh?"

"Yeah..." fake Claire sighed "but I've been worse..."

"Really?" he asked, surprised.

"Yup, man... like that time at... uh... eheheh... Spencer's with the other guys..." fake Claire replied with a wave of the hand and his usual dumb drunken grin.

"You mean the rave party at _Spencer Mansion_ on last June?"

"Yyyup! Worst hangover ever, man! They had to drag me home... pfffff!" fake Claire laughed.

Leon became a little pensive and mumbled out "I didn't know you were there too…" but he soon added with a shrug "hope Chris didn't make a scene when seeing you drunk! Even though… on second thought... uhm... he had to be dragged home too. By me and Kevin."

_Shit_.

Real Chris just realised he was talking to Leon as _himself_ and not as Claire. _Stupid cheap wine_! "Chris... he... uh... don't tell him."

"Don't worry Claire. I'll keep my mouth shut. Just like I hope you'll keep yours too..." he said cringing at the outcome of his own sentence, that sounded kind of a threat, despite he tried to speak as gentle as possible.

"What you mean? I'll have to open it to drink aaaaaall this shit!" Real Chris said pointing at the several bottles.

Shaking his head and chuckling quietly at the drunkenness level of the girl he explained "I mean... about what happened last Saturday... I'm sorry about that. I hope you won't tell Chris about our… my kiss. He's my friend, I don't want to ruin our friendship because of a stupid mistake!"

Leon was again apologizing for his behaviour, concerned about the consequences of it and the fact that a drunk Claire was now dangerous. After all, if she had that easily told him that secret about the Spencer's Rave, she might let other secrets slip from her lips too.

Real Chris, softened by the fuddle and having overcome the upset that got him on the previous Saturday, looked at his friend and smiled for his loyalty. Leon was a good guy who truly cared about their friendship. The younger brother he never had.

"Don't worry, Chris will neeever know." He slobbered, swaying a bit on his feet and placing a hand on the boy's shoulder "you're a good friend. A good friend, man. Man! You're such a gooood friend! But don't call kissing my sis-... _me,_ kissing me... yeah, yeah kissing _me_ a missstake. Ok?"

"Ok Claire, sorry" Leon apologised again for having sounded rude "it wasn't a mistake. And I'd do it all over again if it wasn't for Chris."

Normally, such a sentence would have pissed off both Chris and his jealousy, but now, drunk as he was he was almost touched by those sweet words.

"Thanks, Leoooon" fake Claire said throwing his arms around the blond's neck and patting his back, making him flinch in surprise before looping a timid arm around the fake girl's back to _keep her _steady.

"Try not to drink too much, ok? Chris wouldn't like to see you like this. Try to sober up." Leon said, slowly and regrettingly pulling away from the embrace and, rubbing fake Claire's upper arm, he placed a soft kiss on the temple, And right before leaving, he whispered on the skin a soft and unnoticed "Lucky who'll have you.", bringing with himself the sad resignation of who has to stand aside from making any further move on her. Forever.

Right before disappearing in the doorway, he turned to glance at her and shook his head at himself as he felt that leaving _her _alone was the wrong thing. But after that terrible reaction on the veranda at Redfields', he couldn't stand by _her _like nothing happened. He couldn't.

_Maybe I better drink away my._.. but he sighed as he didn't want to complete the sentence in his mind with the words "broken heart". Instead, he made up his mind to go find _Chris_ and warn _him_ that his sister might get in trouble if she kept drinking that much.

As he was alone again, real Chris had already forgot Leon's warnings and apologies and poured himself another glass. He made up his mind to empty the bottle he had grabbed.

"Uhm... _pinto_... _pinot geerj_... _grigg_... _Pinot grigio_. Sounds good." He mumbled and poured himself a whole cup of the golden wine.

* * *

Real Claire was meandering through the house struggling to slip away from her brother's friends and their noisy manners. With some polite stunts she got to take refuge in the kitchen for a moment of quietude and loneliness. She wondered why people seemed not to care about food at all, but only about drinks. She had already seen a couple of empty metal hogsheads fly over a balcony and dive into the pool, but the buffet was still abounding with a thousand delicacies.

That party was turning out even too challenging for her.

How the hell did Chris manage to enjoy those parties if he was always so busy in keeping up with Piers, getting rid of annoying girls and having fun all at the same time?!

Beyond all this, she had to fake, and do it convincingly, pretending to be the same old Chris in the same old kind of party. It was almost midnight by then and she almost couldn't handle the strain anymore.

To make matters worse, she had lost sight of Piers. As far as she knew, he might have been either somewhere outside barking at the Moon or shagging behind a bush.

Damn, the boy was a real party animal! For a good half an hour she had run after him for the whole house trying to prevent him from getting into trouble. Chris didn't overstate at all! That boy was a true _kissing&hugging machine_ when he'd be as high as kite.

In that kitchen, Claire decided it was about time to grab a bite after having only drunk beer for hours. By then she was far more than just tipsy and she was hungry like a… a Chris.

She prepared herself a dish with some slices of pizza but, before she could pour herself a glass of pure, innocent water, here is that none less than Piers himself got into the room wobbling badly.

He was even more bombed than he was the last time she saw him.

Albeit she was pretty squiffy too, fake Chris soon noticed the reddish halo on her friend's cheek. It didn't take a stone-cold sober genius to understand he had got a slap by someone. The boy came in jabbering about people's prejudices or something like that, but in the attempt of inveighing against the windows before him he ended up falling on the big table in his preaching heat.

Fake Chris helped him getting up and tried to drag him towards some stools that had been placed by the wall, in the attempt to make him sit down, but unsuccessfully. The boy continued his fomented waggling and she didn't feel like using her strength to force him down, fearing she hadn't enough control over her movements.

In the end, it was fake Chris herself to sit down while holding Piers by his arms, trying to make him stop.

"They are all a bunch of bigots!" he huffed out "as if a fucking peck would mean anything!"

"Maybe you should've asked for a permission before!" fake Chris suggested.

"I don't need no permission." Piers grunted. "pecks are meaningless."

"Oh, boy. Listen to me, you do need it! And pecks mean a lot!" fake Chris giggled. "No wonder you got slapped!"

Piers snorted at his friend's laugh and he'd have surely started back his boring plastered preach if the room wasn't spinning around him that much. He got closer and grasped fake Chris' round shoulders to keep balance, as that portly body was the only still thing in his intoxicated, whirling vision. He was swaying on his feet. _Dangerously_ swaying closer and closer to her, his talk becoming more and more stuttered as if he was on the edge of falling asleep. Unpredictable as only drunk people can be, Piers closed the distance with that bearded face of his friend and gently brushed his lips on fake Chris'.

"Meaningless." Piers hissed in a very low voice.

Yes, maybe a small peck would really be meaningless, and maybe it would've been like that for real Chris, as accustomed as he was to Piers' drunk attitudes, but for Claire that little _insignificant _kiss was as devastating as a hurricane.

She had never been kissed on the lips since she was in that body. And she had never been kissed by Piers too. _Meaningless my ass._ That might have been a small peck but it was enough to wake up some tempestuous feelings inside her.

All the booze she had downed suddenly seemed to fuel up a firing heat inside her chest making her heartbeats go mad, and clouding her reason with the smoke of her fuming passion. Piers had just grazed her lips with his, but she longed for more and she didn't waste time nor gave second thoughts about it, she just leaned forward and clashed her lips on his.

Fake Chris took advantage of the grab she already had on Piers and pulled him closer, while ravishing his mouth and taking his face in her big hands.

Piers didn't lose time in deepen the kiss and abandoned himself to his friend's sudden, inexpected lust. He was too drunk to question why the renowingly straight guy Chris was suddenly acting that unlikely way.

Piers' lips started to move, to respond to the compulsive wet movements of the big fake boy, and his tongue started to beg for access to fake Chris' ones.

After weeks spent in imagining, picturing boys (well, only _one_ boy actually) in her mind, real Claire on that stool had lost every control on her moves, her hands, her mind, her tongue, her... libido.

It was so strange for her to kiss a boy in that body, it was strange to be the tallest, the widest. It felt strange the feeling of those lips being touched. She was experiencing Chris' kisses… but from the other side. This is what Chris feels then? She'd have surely wondered all these things if she wasn't that wasted or raptured.

Piers instinctively leaned closer, if not to kiss her better, leastways to keep better balance by leaning against that portly body and he culdn't curb a quiet moan as he felt _her_ hard manhood under his palm. If he were sober he'd never dared to touch the penis of the big brother he never had, instead, on that stool, he started kneading it through the pants with strong, passionate, deft movements of the hand while letting no rest to her tongue.

It was damn good.

It was so good to be touched by someone else. It was her first time as a boy having such an intimate time with someone. That was better than days of just masturbation!

But nothing lasts forever, not even that little piece of unrequested Nirvana. She opened her eyes and, in a little sparkle of sobriety, she forced her mind to realise what the hell was going on. Dammit, she was kissing her brother's friend… _Chris_ was kissing his friend!

Gasping, she made haste to part the kiss, and drew away from him almost battering her back against the wall. But the drunk guy, as he lost the support, collapsed on her wide chest, lips flushed and eyes closed.

_Jesus, Piers! Get the fuck up!_

She cursed under her breath and tried to pull him a little up just enough not to let him slip on the floor but a most frightening sight made her blood freeze in her veins.

_Oh, holiest fuck of all fucks in the fucking world! Leon?!_

The blond boy was staring at her with a confused, profoundly confused look on his face. And fake Chris was staring back with blushed, ashamed, terrified face. Real Claire wanted to die... to disappear from the whole universe in that moment.

A witness. A fucking witness! And not a common one, but Chris' very best friend! Piers was so devastated that he might have forgotten everything but… Leon was damn sober. She couldn't tell how long he had been staring and how much he had seen, but his expression left space for no doubts. He had seen Chris Redfield and Piers Nivans make out on a stool.

Her heart, _Chris'_ _heart_, that just few seconds before was hammering hard in her chest, was now paralyzed. She tried to gulp down to make room for some words to spell, but her mouth was suddenly dry.

"W-what… what are you doing here?!" she screamed in panic, sounding too aggressive even in her opinion.

Leon nervously swifted on his feet a bit before shaking from his perplexity and giving that question a satisfying answer. He lamely cleared his throat and said "I uh… I was looking for you, Chris. I saw Claire… she's kinda drinking too much, I think you shou-"

Real Claire stood up and almost threw on him that poor, hammered Piers, who had happily passed out after that short but intense make out session.

"Look after him. I'll go seek Claire." She sputtered.

Leon barely had the time to catch Piers dead-like body before he'd fall onto the ground, unable to say anything to his friend before she'd storm out of the room, eager to get away from there and afar from Leon's eyes. She needed to find Chris. She needed his advice, he needed to know she had made a fucking mess! And she swore, if she found an open grave along the road she'd have buried herself alive.

* * *

She went straight upstairs for it seemed to be less crowded, thus concealing her arousal would have been easier, and it turned out being the right move as she found real Chris right in there, in one of the bedrooms, in... good company.

He was indeed making out with a girl.

_Oh... fucking shit! You too?!_

Apparently both Redfields had been unluckly lucky that night.

She was staring at _her_ very body wildly clung to a barenaked girl, fiercely kissing her all over the breasts.

That was definitely not good. For some reason.

She had to do something!

If she'd break into the room and just took fake Claire away, the other girl would have told anyone that Claire Redfield was lesbian and that her brother had caught her in the making. And then she'd have to live with those rumors about her sexuality without being able to deny them. And she hated untrue gossip about herself.

By the way that girl was moving, or better, _wasn't_ moving much, she understood that maybe she was drunk. Maybe she wouldn't remember anything on the following day.

But why was her brother taking advantage of a drunk girl? Real Chris would never do something like that. Chris had always taught her to respect people and he always respected women above everything. She suspected, she feared, the answer was that Chris might have been even drunker than the stranger girl.

Also, she didn't like what she was seeing for another reason... some strange feeling she couldn't manage to identify immediately.

Something was taking a hold of her stomach and hurting her. She wished it was jealousy, just like that male body would feel with the right inhabitant, but she feared it was just... guilt?

Bracing herself, she brought fake Chris' imponent body inside the bedroom and approached the bed. Taking fake Claire by an arm she separated the two girls.

With relief, she noticed that the other girl was surely drunk. Perhaps the drunkest person in the whole house, except for Piers_ ça va sans dire_. Probably she wasn't even aware she was being kissed.

"Come on _Claaaaire..._ it's time to go" fake Chris said, glared at her brother in disdain.

He stuttered something back but nothing more than an unintelligible slobber came out of his mouth. Remembering she was the strong one now, she picked up fake Claire, lifted her and brought her outside the room to the nearest bathroom.

_I'll make you sober up, you fucker. _

* * *

Fake Claire was kneeling on the ground in front of the toilet, the two fingers fake Chris had gracelessly pushed inside his throat had made him throw up instantly.

"Why did you get so fucking drunk, Chris?" Real Claire hissed, furious and raging, overhanging her brother with all her stateliness.

To make her feel even worse, the shame load of just a couple of minutes before hadn't worn off yet. But that wasn't the only thing that had _gone upstairs with her_ from the kitchen affair: despite she tried to focus on her brother's dire straits, she couldn't help being still pretty hard.

Dammit, Piers really knew how to touch a boy like a pro! The guy was gifted!

"I... don't know... I didn't realize I was getting... wasted..." Real Chris mumbled, just a bit better now but still a lot, lot drunk.

"I thought we were ok about sticking together and staying out of any trouble! And now you just can barely stand up!" she harshly scolded him.

Real Chris said nothing.

His head was swaying like one of those Mr Raccoon toys their school was full of and he had a stupid, inebriated look printed on his gorgeous feminine face.

Before he might dip his swinging head inside the toilet, real Claire eased him up and made him sit on the bathtub edge.

"And why did you have to start making out with that girl? Tell me!" Real Claire roared with the power of her masculine gruff voice.

"I... Don't know..." Real Chris shrugged. Plastered as he was, he thought his head weighed a ton and he rested it on the other's shoulder. He sighed and bluntly muttered "I just wanted to have a good fuck... that's it."

"And why did you take advantage of her? Don't tell me you didn't notice she's drunk 'cause I won't believe you!"

"She started touching me... I just went for it. I'm drunk too after all." real Chris simply shrugged and laughed. _Leave me be, babe._

Real Claire shook her head "I just hope she won't remember anything! People are surely start thinking I'm weird... I don't want to give them other kinky rumors about me!" and she frowned even more at the thought that she was scolding him for having done her same mistake… at least Chris is drunk as piss, she thought, _what's my excuse again?_

"... S-sorry honey... I just hadn't any intention to have sex with a _boy_ just to suit the _Claire Redfield_'s sexual orientation..." He said, awkwardly air-quoting his sister's name.

"You might have just not have done it at all! You're too drunk to have sex with anybody! You might just get a herpes or who knows what fucking other viral infection just 'cause you're too drunk to do it safely!"

"Put a sock in it, baby. I couldn't even fuck her like I'd have liked to... no dick no risk."

"Dumbass! Vaginas can transmit infections too, you asshole!"

"That's not what I meant... I just... ugh... I want my dick back!" He said sighing and, leaning forward, he pressed a hand on his long-lost groin and added, addressing to... well, the penis. "Come back to me! I want you back!"

He didn't expect to find a hard-on under his touch though.

Just like real Claire didn't expect that move either. It violently took her aback but nevertheless she didn't toss that hand away, despite being her brother's. Her whole pelvic area was still sensitive after Piers' "friendly massage", and her erection was pressing hard against her pants even after the disgusting vision of real Chris puking.

All the pleasure that still lingered in her was abruptly awaken now, and she was once more falling for it.

Even if completely wasted, real Chris began teasing his sister with little squeezes of the hand, almost involuntarily, somehow enjoying her increasing arousal. When a soft moan escaped real Claire's lips, everything precipitated. For the second time in a row.

It all happened in less than a second. Real Chris vehemently slapped his hand on the beside wall, right on the light switch and turned it off.

They were in complete darkness now, and real Chris sat on his sister's lap, straddling her, and started rubbing himself madly against her hard groin. Real Claire wasn't the only horny kid in there.

She lost control too.

She grasped that slim female body by the hips and with her big strong hands, she helped real Chris in his back and fro movements, relishing in the feeling of some other body touching her most intimate parts again.

In a nick of time, they were masturbating to each other through fabrics, together.

It wasn't like having sex at all, though, as they weren't kissing nor touching each other. Their hands were only on themselves. Only on whom they longed for.

Real Chris was ravaging fake Claire's breasts while bouncing madly, real Claire was pulling off fake Chris' shirt even if this time she couldn't see his abs in account of the dark. But except for their groins, no other parts of their bodies were touching. Their breaths soon grew heavy and the obscurity helped them let go and vocalize their pleasure at the other's presence. Not that they were ashamed of each other after all, but that was the very first time the two young Redfields heard with their own ears each other's arousals.

It was wild. And it escalated at the speed of light.

They were moving so furiously that they fell inside the empty bathtub and, unable to stop to get up, they adjusted in there instead. If anybody would've dared to enter the room (and turned on the lights) in that very moment, would've found Claire Redfield stroking herself against a shirtless Chris Redfield, both moaning desperately.

With a strong move, she rolled over and eased him on his back, while laying on top of him, covering his little body completely. As her sight was adjusting to the poor illumination that filtrated through the near window, her wild rubbing enriched with the sight of… what Chris would have seen when being on top of a girl. _This is what Chris sees? This is what he does? This is how he moves? _

That realisation alone was enough to ignite her lust even more, but seeing that it was _hers_ the body below, overwhelmed her with desire. _That_ was something Chris had never seen for sure. Not yet at least.

She kept picturing her brother's body in her mind as usual, but she soon began to envy that red-haired _girl_ under her in that moment… unlike herself, that girl could _see_ that body, she could she Chris' muscles flex and contract under the hot skin, she could read how pleasure would deform his features, she could feel _him_ pounding on her, she could… be touched by _him_. Real Claire instead could only imagine despite being so damn close to _his_ body, so... inside it.

They just kept dry-humping like mads: real Chris, laid down on the white ceramic bottom of the bathtub, was able only to moan, knead his breasts, delicately pinch his nipples, and straddle her waist with his slender thighs giving, every now and then, a weak, clumsy push-up to deepen the contact with her erection, while real Claire, leveraging on the buthtub edge with her hands, would press her hard-on on his clitoris with strong pushes of her hips, releasing low, growling huffs along with her movements.

Being not as drunk as her brother, real Claire should've been the most responsible one and she ought to, if not stop that madness, at least not do what she did next.

While her own arousal was fast reaching its peak, she just slid the same two fingers she used to make her brother throw up, inside him, sliding beneath his panties. The new teasing just drove him crazy and accelerated his climax, he began moaning louder, with few little pauses to listen better to the sticky wet sounds those fingers made while plowing into his inners.

The bathtub simply overflew with their sounds.

One sound in particular got her attention: among all the sighs and moans and heavy breaths filling the small room, she heard her brother whisper repeatedly his name. _His_ very own name. "Chris". Even if abandoning herself to pleasure, she wondered why her brother was picturing himself while jerking off.

_That's weird. _

What real Claire couldn't just imagine was that her brother, relishing in his oblivion, needed to hear his name pronounced by his sister's voice. He was addicted to it.

When they both had finished with an explosive twirl of loud moans, they stayed in the bathtub, breaths coming out in husky pants and silent. When real Claire, regained a bit of consciousness, removed her hand from inside her brother's panties, it was just caught by him and led into his hot red cherry mouth.

"I told you I always lick my fingers." he breathed out, exhausted but satisfied.

* * *

After having thrown up another couple of times, fake Claire had finally sobered up and was now able to walk again. After a quick check of their clothes - thankfully no stains were soaking them - they decided to go back downstairs, not saying a single word.

"Chris! Jesus Christ! Where have you been, bitch?" Carlos shouted from the other side of the crowded room and approached them "I've been looking for ya man... got some hot chick to bang, uh? You motherfucker! Come on! Beer pong has just starteeeed!" And laughed loudly, beckoning at a wide table across the living room.

After glancing at each other, fake Claire sheepishly replied "No… he was helping me getting over my buzz."

"You were drunk too?" he beamed widening his black eyes in excitement "Whoo hooo! Time to get drunk again then! Come on let's play beer pong together CLAAAAIIIIRE!"

"I don't think is a good idea, Carlos" fake Chris intervened "actually, we're going home. My sister isn't feeling good."

They waved at all their friends and finally got in their car. Fake Chris driving this time.

When they arrived at home, about ten minutes later, they parked in the garage but didn't leave the car already. Real Claire was the first one to speak.

"About what happened befor-"

"We needed that."

Claire thought about it a bit and sighed "Yeah... we did."

"Do you regret it?"

"Oh no, Chris."

"Good. Me neither. I'd do it all over again, Claire." He said, rubbing at his eyes.

She smiled. She would too.

Before getting off the car she asked "Why were you sayin' your name by the way? That was funny!"

Without looking at her, he simply shrugged "Dunno. I was just drunk."

Maybe he didn't know. Maybe he didn't want to tell.

* * *

DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE, beautiful people!

By the way, cheers! We're already on the 12th of October (in their world)! That means: eighteen days since the accident (24th of September). Useless info.


	13. The Hardest Part

**First of all, thank you for all the appreciation! I'm flattered! Thank you anonymous guest reader for leaving your feedback, hope you'll keep up with the rest of the story.**

**Thank you for the kudos and likes!**

**This one's gonna be another long ride, full of events. Hope to entertain you!**

**Enjoy!**

**P.S. the title is not related to any Coldplay's song XD**

* * *

**CHAPTER 12 - The Hardest Part**

* * *

**Part one - ****_Hangover_**

Fake Claire woke up to a tremendous headache, laying on the pink bed in nothing more than his underwear. He rolled under the thick padded blanket and glanced at the frog shaped alarm on his nightstand. He hadn't the strength nor the will to raise his head from the pillow as it still weighed like a herd of elephants.

One blink, the time.

Second blink, the window.

Third blink, Girly Room... Claire?

He turned his head and saw that big, toned, heavy body sleeping right beside him, snoring quietly with the face dug into the fluffy pillow. Despite his headache, he grinned at the remembrance of the previous night events. The drinking, the fun, the laughs, Leon, the unknown girl, the puke, the bathtub, the puke, the car. Home.

He was home and he was alive. That part of the plan still being unscathed.

Once home he had thrown up one more time. He reminisced how his stomach was writhing and burning, and how a still shitfaced himself told - _spluttered_ \- his young sister to stick with him and... _don't let me die like Bon Scott._

He smiled. His sister never disappointed him. She didn't let him die suffocated in his own spit. Instead, she had helped him stand up, lifted him and carried him into Girly Room as his drunk clumsiness wouldn't let him walk silently. She undressed her brother, by then completely unable to even stand on his feet, tucked him in the blanket and, lastly, she stretched beside him, quickly passing out as well.

He sat up, his head spinning like a top and his stomach burning. He left the room hoping that walking would relent his nausea. When he got back, real Claire was awake and stretching under the blankets.

"Good morning, Claire."

"Morning…" she replied with a thick voice while rubbing her eyes, but suddenly she stopped and asked "you alright?"

"Hangover. Got an aspirin. And you?"

"I'm pretty fine. Your body here seems to tolerate booze pretty well!" she said, giving little slaps on her stomach.

"I know. Yours doesn't." He laughed "can't believe my sister outdrank me!"

She laughed back. A genuine, deep, roaring laugh. "What time is it?"

"Uh... 10 a.m., give or take."

"Come on over here." real Claire said and patted on the mattress next to her.

He climbed on bed and curled himself under the blankets, face to face with his sister.

They were feeling alright in the dusky atmosphere of that room. Outside, the sky was clouded and no plain sunlight filtered through the shutters, still, it was pretty bright, enough to make them see each other without teasing too much their weary eyes.

Suddenly, the memories of a particularly… intimate yet compromising moment came up to Claire's mind, right out of nowhere, and shook her to the bone.

"Hey, Claire!" real Chris asked noticing her abrupt wince. "What's up?"

Fake Chris laid on her back and, sighing, covered her face with the blanket. The remembrance of her nightly _liaison_ squeezed her heart so hard that all the blood rushed to her cheeks. She was so embarrassed for what she had done and she wished she could erase it from her mind and forget but… Her brother had to know what had happened. Even if that meant an explosion of fury because she had not only made out with one of his friends, but she had done it when disguised as him!

_Damn, he's so gonna kill me! And I fucking deserve it!_

"Chris, I made a mess." she muttered against the blanket, bracing all the courage she could muster. The sooner the better, girl.

Real Chris' mood shifted from amused to deeply concerned in a blink of an eye as he adjusted better on the mattress. "Tell me everything, honey."

"Yesterday… I… uh… you…" she stuttered between a sore heartbeat and another "Yesterday… I drank too much…well, not like you but… I was tipsy and… it was late and I was hungry so… but Piers had kinda vanished… I know you told me to look after him…"

"Piers? Did anything happened to him?" he asked.

Her heart was pounding at a machine gun pace. Truth was just a handful of stuttered words away. And that was scary. "Well… uhm… he got drunk. He was, _hell_, he was sloshed! And I met him, and he was pissed off at someone, I dunno… but I tried to help him…" she hastily and heatedly spoke, as she felt panic rising in her chest, and she wanted to clean up her conscience as soon as possible, at least before another panic attack would overrun her. _No, please, not now. Not again. She_ wasn't ready to go through another one of those nightmarish moments.

"Claire. Claire. Calm down." real Chris said as all her excited talking was confusing him and he wasn't understanding a single thing of all she said. "Just tell me what happened. One word at a time. Did he got hurt?"

She shook her head "No. No, Chris. He was ok. Drunk but fine… it was me... I fucked up." She looked at the ceiling and then closed her eyes. _It's like peeling off a band-aid. C'mon, Claire. _"I kissed him."

Real Chris said nothing, he just blinked a couple of times. "What do you mean?"

"I kissed him! We made out!" she repeated, not understanding what was Chris waiting for to explode with his renowned jealousy "He was drunk… he wanted to show that kisses mean noth-… ugh, Chris… it's just that… He kissed me… and I lost control. But I was you! I-I… I can't believe I did it to you! He's your frie-"

"Calm down, honey." he said, cutting her off "It's fine."

"Hell no that it's not fine!" she yelled, tugging the blanket off her face and slamming the edge of it upon her stomach in a desperate yet angry move "Piers is your friend and _who-he-thinks-is-you_ kissed him and even let him touch _his_ penis! What would he think now?"

Real Chris let out an amused laugh, getting his sister even more confused. Why wasn't he getting mad at her? Was he... damn, was he _making fun of her_? That would've been even worst for her to accept. She needed his reprimand. She needed to feel him as an alley in her self-loathing for her stupidity.

"Claire, I could bet my head Piers doesn't even remember!" he said giggling at her face "and, by the way, it's not even the first time he kisses me while bombed as fuck!"

"What?!" she asked, incredulous.

He laughed and explained "he gets drunk every, single, fucking time. And every fucking time he somehow gets to kiss me… or Leon… or Kevin or… whoever. And the day after he never remembers! 'Cause he's devastated as shit! I have to tell him every time and we just laugh at it. It's ok." he lastly shrugged.

Claire wasn't reassured that much. "Chris... this wasn't just a peck... we... we were making out. Did you hear me? It was intense. He touched me... _you_. Where do you think _that _huge boner came from?"

"Well… that never happens." he joked, faking a pensive expression "but trust me, he won't remember."

"You're not Chris today."

"What do you mean?"

"My _real_ brother would've made a scene for such a thing!" She said "and by the way, after your upset for Leon's innocent kiss I expected a whole different reaction!"

"Do you want me to act jealous, sweetheart? 'Cause I can't really feel that way when it's about Piers…" he said, quirking a malicious eyebrow. "and even though he kissed _me_… Claire, I know him too well. I can swear that, even if he remembered, that kiss wouldn't mean anything to him. To him I am more of a brother than another guy to be attracted by." And after a little pause he harshly added "Leon, instead... Leon kissed _you."_

Real Claire let out a quiet laugh and a head shake. He was still jealous, even if guys like Piers weren't a threat for Chris and his brotherly jealousy. Good to know. And if Chris says it's ok, she believes him. A faint smile enlightened her bearded face at the realisation that if he was her only brother, she wasn't his only sibling. Chris had a bunch of really close friends that truly considered him as the older brother he seemed born to be.

But that little relief wasn't meant to last long. One thing was still worrying her… the last detail. The worst one. And the infamous name had just been spelled.

"Chris… Leon saw us." she muttered, ashamed and guilty, grinding the soft padded blanket with her strong hands.

She hastily described the stool scene and what Leon might have witnessed and thought and, once she was done, she just laid in silence waiting for his harshest reprimand.

Real Chris couldn't really hide his upset over that revelation. _That_ was a problem. If his sister had made out with Piers the way she described and if Leon saw anything… well, it would have been pretty hard to justify it to his best friend. Damn Leon and his sobriety! If he was drunk, he could've quite easily made him believe he had been seeing things. But no, Mr _I-am-a-decent-boy_ is always alert! Always in the wrong place at the wrong time! Damned, blond, angel-faced guy!

Chris didn't like hearing that. But what he truly hated hearing was his sister's sorrowful tone. Fuck off Leon. Fuck off voyeurism. Fuck off everything. Only Claire was important, and if that thing was worrying her...

"Ok…" he whispered. "We'll take care of that too. Somehow…"

He turned again towards her and pulled her big head downwards to leave a calming kiss on her tousled short hair. "Don't you worry 'bout that, honey. Ok?"

"Ok…"

"It's not that bad. I don't really care." he lied.

"I know you do care."

"Believe me! It's not that bad! We all do stupid thing when drunk! And_ Chris Redfield_ was pretty drunk last night, right? I guess_ he_ is justified too. Swear to me you won't worry."

"I swear." she said and accompanied her promise with a little chuckle. _You're the best brother_.

* * *

They stayed there for a while catching up about the night before: the people they had met, what they had seen and so on. They even alluded to the bathtub thing a few times but they didn't need to talk about it. They had already settled that it was just fine only few hours earlier, when coming home. And for them, it was. What had happened in that infamous bathroom wasn't anything scandalous at all… Just the normal being of their corrupted siblinghood. They even made a couple of smutty jokes about fake Chris' fingers and their _fucking _skills.

They were too much accustomed to being dirty to realize what they were doing was aberrant. They had almost had sex. What kept them from doing it was the fact that they weren't attracted to the body opposite them but only by the one they were in. Maybe if they were switched, they wouldn't have done it either. Who knows? Maybe it was just that outrageous condition, that disturbing constant feeling of being out of place, in the wrong body, in the wrong clothes, in the wrong room that made them spiral out that bad. They couldn't know. They had stopped thinking about consequences many days before. They just did what they wanted. What they needed. And they needed to feel good. And well-being was all they pursued. No matter the means. No matter the bodies. No matter the family.

They were Chris and Claire and they got their genders switched. That's all they needed to know. They seemed to accept that they were just a complete fucked up mess, without questioning.

About one hour later they decided it was about time to get up.

"I need a shower" real Chris declared, stretching his thin arms over his ruffled ponytail.

"Yeah, I need one too. I still have sperm all over my balls inside the boxers."

"Ew... better hurry up then!" He replied, grimacing and jumping on that bare-naked buff body.

Fake Claire sat astride on her lap, placing his gracious hands on fake Chris' wide shoulders and, leaning downwards, on all fours, he placed a sound kiss on her bearded cheek.

"We've been pretty dumb last night!" Real Claire joked, while stroking the curve of her brother's back with her fingertips, and reaching up to unclip the bra "we were already in the bathtub, why the actual fuck didn't we wash ourselves? I wouldn't feel so sticky now!"

"Yeah... we didn't think about it. I guess that's because I was drunk and you were stoned by the orgasm! Anyway, stop the talk and let's hit the shower. Come on!"

He just slid off the already unhooked bra, launched it somewhere behind himself and climbed out of bed.

They showered together. Nudity not being a problem anymore for any of them. After all, it was each own well-known body the one they'd be standing in front of.

They washed each other's backs, played with foam and sponges, and joked like kids. That little pillow talk they had, succeeded to put them in a happy mood again. Screw all the problems! They couldn't reach them inside their fortress!

While real Claire was washing fake Claire's head longing for her auburn shiny hair, real Chris was looking down longing for his dick.

"I miss you, buddy."

Real Claire instantly understood whom he was addressing at and she burst into a huge growling laugh before starting to rinse his long hair with abundant water.

"You can touch him if it makes you feel better! He doesn't bite... guess you know!"

"Ha ha ha... not funny!" He mocked "But I would end up doing you a hand job and still missing my dick! And by the way I don't just miss touching it... I miss it being between my legs!"

"Well... I know quite a remedy for that!" Real Claire joked, winking suggestively with a catchy smile and an explicit move of her hips.

"Umpf! No way. I got headache today, honey!" And real Chris mockingly turned away with his nose up and exited the shower, trying clumsily to imitate top models' waddling catwalk.

* * *

Lily was laying the table when her kids went downstairs, quiet laughs rumbling down the staircase like a slow landslip.

"Morning Mom!" "Good morning Mommy"

Lily scanned their faces carefully, with piercing hazel brown eyes, and said "so... who's the one who got drunk?"

The siblings exchanged perplexed looks. _How does she know? Do I look that terrible? I didn't look terrible in the mirror._

Lily placed a hand on her hip, shifting her weight on one foot, breathing in slowly and squinting her eyes before speaking again "I heard someone throw up in the bathroom last night and as you had just been to a party... which one of my children got drunk?". Her tone was gentle but to her children it seemed to howl _danger-better-run_ altogether.

"Actually me, Mom" real Chris answered sheepishly.

"Christopher! I thought you were more responsible! You're the older one, you should give good example to your little sister!"

"Yeah I know Mom..." He replied, a little embarrassed "Just I... didn't know this body would get drunk so fast, my real one doesn't... I had only a couple of glasses!"

"First of all, you shouldn't be drinking at all as long as you're underage for it! No matter the body. You're eighteen. No drinks. Secondly, why do you want to ruin your sister's body by getting intoxicated, uh? Show some respect to her!"

Real Chris was now drowning in complete shame. He felt so sorry for his mother's scolding angry words, for having disappointed her, and for having been so irresponsible towards his sister, that he only wanted to bury himself a hundred feet underground. He had been so stupid and selfish. He had got drunk without thinking about the consequences. Yes, he didn't see it coming but he just kept drinking after the first two shots making his drunkenness get worse.

"I'm sorry... I..."

"I drank too" real Claire said, cutting him off "I didn't get drunk only because Chris' body tolerates it. But I drank too!"

"Claire! You're sixteen! For God's sake! Chris? Did you just let your sister drink without intervene?"

"You cannot blame only Chris!" Claire angrily said, a shadow slowly sliding over her face "We both did it. We weren't together. Chris has always behaved perfectly with my body! He even stopped smoking since he is in it!"

Fortunately, Lily already knew about her son's bad habits or Claire might have just aggravated that discussion and their position by revealing such an information.

Chris had started smoking when he was fifteen and beardless and Carlos passed him his first cigarette in the school's toilet during a break. Until his eighteenth birthday, he kept it secret to anyone except for Claire.

She had caught him smoke one day, on a sunny mid-summer afternoon, when he was sixteen and she was fourteen, at their grandparents' house in the mountain side, where they were spending a couple of weeks of their vacation before she'd have gone to her summer camp.

He was hidden behind a large wooden cabin in the backyard, sitting on a chopped tree trunk, his back resting on the wooden wall, enjoying both tobacco and the cool air under the shadow casted by the tall trees surrounding the lawn, unseen from the gracious cottage. He hadn't heard her approach and winced badly when she poked her head from the cabin's corner.

"Fuck, Claire!" He yelled "you scared the shit out of me! I thought you were Grandpa!"

She came closer, staring at the little white tube in his hand.

"Don't tell anybody!" He said in a warning tone, pointing an offensive forefinger at her, cigarette still caught between his thumb and middle finger.

She nodded, caressing the loose auburn braid that fell graciously on her shoulder, and squatted beside him.

"You know, Chris... I kinda knew that." She said while fiddling the grass with some random thin stick she found on the ground. She looked at him and, in front of his questioning gaze, she explained "You may fool Mommy and Daddy but I smell the stink of your breath when you hug me."

He took another drag, with his intense hazel brown eyes staring in silence at his sister, now focused on flailing a lonesome nettle plant with the short stick.

"Come here." He resolutely said, beckoning her to take place on the ground between his spread open knees.

Perplexed, she did as told and knelt again in front of him placing her hands on his bare knees. A subtle ray of sunlight, filtering through the leafy elm, hit her hair and sprayed an aura of crimson reflexes, making her look like one of those Venuses in Renaissance's paintings. He looked straight at her blue eyes, two sapphires nestled in a thick layer of black eyelashes, the youth freckles over her nose and cheekbones emphasized by the summer tan.

He deftly turned the cigarette in his fingers and handed it to her.

"Take a drag." He softly said.

"What?!" She exclaimed, flinching in surprise.

"Take a drag!" He repeated smiling.

She was getting suspicious. Was he testing her? "Why?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Listen. In a couple of weeks you'll be going to your first summer camp without me. There will be tons of idiots over there trying to convince you to do stupid things. They will try to make you smoke for sure. I can bet my head on it. I know how those shitholes work. And I know you'll try it sooner or later, so I prefer being the one that makes you take the first drag. Because I know that if you don't like it now, you won't try again. If you like it... well you'd have started anyway in a nick of time so... and by the way, who am I to tell you not to do what I do?" He explained, trying to be clear enough to make her understand his true intentions.

He wasn't trying to get her addicted to smoke like him, but he was well aware of the fact that kids their age usually start smoking because a friend makes them try, or because the group pushes to take a drag. He had been one of those kids.

She still looked confused and unconvinced but she trusted her brother so she sheepishly nodded. "Ok..."

Truth be told, she was curious to taste the flavour of something so many people were such a fan of.

He placed the orange filter in front of her mouth, she just had to part her lips and... inhale. He grinned at her round cheeks hollowing for the suckling. She tilted her head back and coughed out all the white smoke she had sucked in.

"It sucks!" She yelled coughing hard and waved her hand to dissipate the smelly vapour.

"Another one." He gently commanded.

"Hell, no!" She giggled pushing his hand away. "It smells like rotten shit!"

He let out a growling laugh and brought the cigarette back to his mouth. "You sure you won't try again?" He asked, exhaling away from her direction.

"Yup!" She said standing up, leveraging on his knees. "I don't want to kill people with my stinking breath!"

He put away the cigarette, standing up as well and, with one flawless move, he picked her, lifting her slender body on his shoulder, gaining her amused squeal. "Let's go down to the river!"

As anticipated, he had revealed his bad habit to the rest of his family on his eighteenth birthday, during lunch in their dining room, when, right after having blown out the candles on his cake, he rose from his seat and took a brief speech.

"Well, today I'm officially an adult, right? I can vote, I'm fully responsible for my actions and so on. I still can't drink but..." he extracted the small package from his pocket "... but at least now I can smoke without hiding from you."

His parents glanced at each other and Robert huffed and rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Chris. As if we didn't know already."

Lily wasn't of the same careless opinion as her husband who, after all, unlike her, he had been a smoker too, and she raised a disapproving eyebrow at her son. She looked intensely at Claire, squinting her eyes, like an investigator, silently asking her to confess if she was smoking too, but her daughter, who was so skilled in reading her mind, simply chuckled and shook her head. She didn't want her kids to smoke or to drink or to do any bad thing. Her kids had to be decent people.

The dining room was the same, but not the kids facing her. They were a little older and they were switched. But most importantly they had drunk.

_Unacceptable._

"Claire, this is not a justification. You both drank. Underage. I didn't raise my kids to behave like that! I don't want you to!"

"We don't want it either!" Real Claire screamed, hazel brown eyes full of tears "we didn't want to any of this fucking shit to happen! Our lives suck and you expect us to act like anything happened? UH? Like perfect normal kids?! We're no more kids Mom, and we're not even normal anymore! We're breaking down! CAN'T YOU SEE IT?!"

That shouted, leaving a startled Lily and a sorrowful Chris behind, she stormed back upstairs. A burly muscular male body, running and crying like a little girl, slammed the Girly Room door behind itself.

* * *

"Claire... it's me, Chris. May I come in?"

Few seconds passed before a humble "yes" came to his ears. He got in and closed the door. His sister was sitting on the ground, in front of the window, back resting on the bed side, her knees tucked to her chest and head hidden between those nervy arms of hers.

He took place next to her, kneeling down, hugging her tightly, and caressing her sobbing head.

"Don't worry, Claire..."

"..."

"Mom is just worried about us, honey. She loves us..."

"..."

"I know it hurts, I know how you feel..." He sighed and went on "...But at least her telling-off was a bit of... normality... We so fucking need it."

"..."

"It's just Mom, doing her job to raise us. She is suffering too. I'm sure. But she tries so hard to help us. Even if by only being... Mom."

Real Claire rose her head still without looking at him.

He cradled her in his arms but soon real Claire made him move and roughly tugged him between her bent legs, face to face, and hugged him back, still quietly sobbing, dipping her bearded face in his soft cleavage, nuzzling on his soft skin.

He raked his delicate fingers through her short dark hair, streaming his hands through her nape and placing soft kisses on her crown.

"Claire..." but he didn't muster any cheering word but a breathy "I love you."

"I love you too, Chris." she sobbed.

They might have been broken. They might have been fucked up. They might even have been nasty. But they were family. They had each other. Together they could face everything.

They stayed that way, relishing in each other's embrace, whispering softly. They didn't move even when they heard the landline phone ring somewhere in the house. It rang a bit before stopping. Maybe Lily had picked it up or maybe the calling one had just desisted. They didn't give a single fuck.

About five minutes later, or even less, someone knocked at the door.

It was Lily. She was shaken. But in a positive way. She just got in without waiting for a permission and she looked intensely at her kids, so tightly hugging. Fake Claire, in the position he was, facing the bedroom door, looked back at her. Fake Chris didn't make a move, she just kept her head on her brother's soft chest and her arms wrapped around his back. She was still pretty pissed at her mother.

"What's up Mom?" Real Chris asked, confused by his mother's gaze.

"Dad... He just called. He..." She was breathless.

Real Claire peeled away from her brother's voluminous breasts and violently turned her head towards her mother. "Did anything happen to him?" She asked with a scared trembling voice.

"No... He just... said that the machinery is complete." Lily said, and she needed to catch some breath when she was done.

Silence fell over the Redfield family.

"Mom... do you mean that... They made it? So quickly?"

"Robert said they still have to test it... But after the new results of the Quantico Simulator, they're sure it will work as they recreated on it the same process applied on the hardware built. They simulated the operation and the Simulator got a positive response to the transmigration. That's what he said."

"When will they switch us back?" Real Claire was gasping and impatient.

"Dad said they have still to do the definitive virtual try out, wait for the response of a side technical commission in Shanghai Umbrella's branch to check the project overall and give their permit for use on real people. Then they will experiment it on the two doctors who got switched too, before risking using the machine on you two! It might take a week or maybe less as Robert said."

Both Claire and Chris needed some time to elaborate what they had just heard. Now the chances to get back to normality were more than just hope. They were getting pretty concrete. It was almost real. They'd have their bodies back. Their lives back.

Lily streaked towards the bed not restraining her blissful laughter nor curbing her tears. The three of them burst into a liberating cry all together, holding tightly to each other, in a big family hug.

Their little quarrel of few minutes before was soon forgotten.

Besides, their father, when got home that evening, was so excited he just stormed in the living room, held tight fake Claire lifting him a bit and making him spin around. He couldn't do the same to fake Chris but he held her too in rackety jubilation.

Robert knew the stage of the works going on and seeing their father being so sure about the outcome made their day. Yes, he said that maybe a week wasn't enough for all the remaining procedures, unlike he had told Lily, but his kids were just so happy that willingly accepted any circumstance, any delay.

They all might sleep tighter that night.

Chris and Claire, however, were too heated up to sleep. It was late when a sneaky fake Chris made her way into the Girly Room. She was careful to make no sounds at all, looking around with circumspection. She wasn't doing anything requiring such secrecy but still she didn't feel any different.

Without knocking, well aware her brother was awake, she got in, climbed on bed, and rolled herself in her brother's arms, resting her head on his bosom. No dirty pillow talking. Nay, no talking at all. They just mollycoddled each other. It was sweetest. Each of them caressing the body they'd be getting back soon, almost like they wanted to savour the feel of touch, to impress it in their minds for when they would no more be able to touch _those_ same bodies without feeling back the touch with their own skin.

Also, to remember how it feels to _be _touched in those bodies they were in.

They eventually fell asleep, nestled in their embrace, smiles sewn on their faces.

* * *

**Part two - ****_The last bites_**

School days passed slower than ever. To them seemed like time had bent, causing it to slow down to an unbearable pace, classes never ending, buses never passing, girls never stop talking. The waiting was wearing. The anticipation overwhelming.

They grew nervous with their friends. They didn't maltreat them but everyone sensed their obvious agitation. Leon, in particular, felt fake Chris more distant and standoffish than ever. He felt ignored. Avoided. He felt put aside. Fake Chris sensed that, and she just despised herself even more.

As to say, those last few days they had to spend swapped were the worst that far. And the more they got shattered by life the more their nightly talking and acting went nasty, with more and more explicit references. By a nose they didn't end up mutually masturbating once more, but their telling about how they ravaged each other's genitals were getting more detailed, smutty and intimate.

To make things even worse, fake Claire's hormones were going crazy again as he got periods once more, having the huge stress anticipated it to the sixteenth of the month, instead of the usual twenty-seventh like it occurred in September. And still, real Chris had problems handling it, as the said combination of disposition, hormones and anxiety was overtaking him once more. At least that time it wasn't much painful.

* * *

Many times fake Claire was scolded by professor Wesker for having spaced out.

"Miss Redfield, would you mind honour us of your attention?" He grunted annoyed, with his deep monotonous voice, his dark shades resting superb and bossy on his pointy nose.

Fake Claire shifted on his seat and nodded silently, trying to focus on the boring signs written on the black board.

When the bell rang, Wesker waved at the fake girl to approach his desk as he planned to exchange a little talk with the red-haired. Alone.

"Miss Redfield" he rattled low, without directly looking at _her _"that wasn't the first time I caught you not paying attention. And it's not the first time I have to stop my lesson to draw you back."

"I'm sorry, Professor Wesker, I..." Fake Claire muttered trying to muster a quick excuse to justify his total lack of interest in his boring explanations of how virus cells replicate themselves, but the sudden hard stare coming from the man's eyes, two golden-streaked light brown irises, unexpectedly freed from the black screen of his sunglasses, just silenced him.

Real Chris didn't like how his teacher was looking at him.

At _her._

Wesker cleared his throat and stood up, bypassing the wide desk, and went closing the classroom door, glancing at the hallway with circumspection.

Real Chris could feel his whole body stiffen at such a hair-raising move. Wesker came closer again and bowed his tall, slender body taking a seat on the desk, one foot left dangling, while the other was firmly planted on the ground. His bent knee was just few inches away from fake Claire's pelvis.

Fake Claire looked up at him with harshness, he didn't like at all his closeness, nor the way his gaze was locked on him.

"I've kept an eye on you, Miss Redfield. I noticed how shattered you're getting and how difficult is becoming for you to remain focused." The blond man said, effortlessly oppressing him with his judgemental gaze.

"I'm just fine, Professor." Real Chris grunted, trying to hide his rising anger.

"Miss Redfield" Wesker continued, ignoring the fake girl's tone, and stood up closing the distance with his student "I'm not here to scold you. Don't mistake my intentions."

If that was meant to sound affectionate and caring, real Chris couldn't really tell. The teacher had spoken with his usual deep, soothe voice, without breaking eye contact for a single instant. Disquieting how he could stare into fake Claire's blue irises without blinking.

Wesker raised a hand and placed it on the girl's shoulder, softening his gaze but failing to purse it into a mild, compassionate expression. His hand climbing up the round shoulder before taking fly to the girl's face, two fingers gently pinching _her _chin.

Real Chris didn't like that touch nor his tall figure overhanging him and, struggling to keep control, he took a step back from him, silently warning the teacher not to make another move with his blue-eyed glare.

Chris had to struggle against his desire to punch the man in the balls but he fought it back lest to damage even more his sister's position. The last thing he wanted for her was a disciplinary measure for having beaten a teacher. But his self-control was challenged by Albert's forefinger who slithered upwards, caressing fake Claire's jawline.

Real Chris just flinched at that slight touch and instinctively tossed his face aside, away from the man's fingers. He couldn't stand that his sister's face had been touched by that creep, even less if in such a tender yet viscid way.

Wesker seemed not to like the fake girl's sudden insubordination. Was she defying his authority? Did she believe that playing rebellious would impress him? Would make him stand back? His stare hardened (real Chris' raging, paranoid mind would've sworn it wasn't the only thing hardening), a glimpse of disappointment, ire and amusement cracked on the teacher's face.

"You may keep your grades at your usual good level but I will have to consider your behaviour in my valuations." He grunted, turning away and showing no more interest to the girl's presence.

"Thanks for the advice." Real Chris lamely replied and left the room with disgust wrenching his gut. _Motherfucking bastard swine!_

* * *

On Sunday twenty-first, they were doing their homework inside Man's Cave when real Chris' phone rang.

"It's Grandpa John…" real Chris said, scraping his head in front of such an unexpected call. Grandpa John wasn't used to call his grandkids in the middle of the afternoon unless it was important. "Claire…. I reckon you gotta pick up."

His sister nodded, grabbed her brother's phone and answered. "Hello?"

"Hi, Chris, it's Grandpa." a rough, deep but jolly voice answered on the other end.

"Hi... Everything alright?" she asked whilst putting the speakerphone on.

"Listen, son, why don't you come on over at Jim's Bikes Cars? Got a little precious to show you." The man said with his strong Texan accent.

"Errr…" real Claire mouthed a silent _what-am-I-supposed-to-say_ at her brother, who just shrugged. "T-today…?" she asked, buying some time.

"I need your advice, son. As you worked on that mechanical workshop last summer, you surely understand if an engine is in good condition!" the old man replied.

"Advice? Do you want to buy a new car, Grampy?" she asked, trying to investigate a little bit her grandfather's intention.

"_Grampy_? Ahahaha Chris! Never heard you call me that way in eighteen years!" A crackling rough laugh flew out of the speaker "until it's Claire calling me like that is ok... but my big buff grandson... with his manly voice... ahahaha!"

Claire bit her tongue. No, Chris never called Grandpa John that way.

"You know, Grandpa... she's so contagious when she goes childish" she said, hoping for him to buy it.

John Redfield didn't mind the funny _blunder_ anymore and went on with his purpose "Anyway, I ain't buying any new car, son. I'm never going to give my old lady away! No, I just found a good American-made motorcycle" the two kids heard some tapping-on-metal sound "One of those they used to make back in my days, not like those plastic and tin _bicycles for spineless kids _they do nowadays." He said, spitting those last words out in disdain. "But ol' Jim here would sell even his mother for a couple of bucks." the elder giggled while, in the distance, someone scoffed at him.

The two kids stared at each other. Real Claire was trying to invent a good excuse to decline the invitation, real Chris instead was curious to know more and with a swing of the head beckoned her to accept.

"Uhm… ok… ok, Grandpa. I'll meet you there, ok?"

"Great, Chris! I'll be waiting. See ya." John said and hang up.

Real Claire gave the phone back to her brother and asked "Chris, how the hell am I supposed to know about engines?"

In fact, despite being pretty fond of motorcycles, all her knowledge about mechanics were limited to basic notions, unlike Chris who could easily dismantle and reassemble a motorbike all by himself with all the practical expertise he got.

"Don't worry, Claire. I'll come with you."

"What if he asks me details?"

"Well…" he slyly replied "we have a whole car ride to put up a secret code."

"A secret what?!"

* * *

Fake Chris parked the car in front of Jim's store and killed the engine. A towering elder man, with grey moustache highlighting a white smile and a ponderous gait soon approached their car.

"Claire!" John exclaimed, flashing a smile at his granddaughter and hugging that dainty, feminine body "Chris didn't tell me you'd come too!"

"Well… when he said the words _Grandpa_ and _motorcycle_ I just couldn't hold back!" fake Claire chuckled.

Right behind John there was a short, bald man, with a prominent round fat belly on a pair of short chicken legs. His tummy was so unproportioned that he needed to wear braces not to lose his pants when walking. He was the store Owner, Jim, and he had the typical exaggerated smile and smart expression sellers usually have. Together they went inside the store and John showed them a vintage cruiser bike, all covered by a thick layer of dust, the once reddish gas tank corroded by rust, some metal pieces seemed to be missing but it still radiated the old glory of past times. Overall it wasn't that bad.

Fake Chris pretended to analyse it while fake Claire did just the same but trying not to make it too evident.

"So?" John asked expectantly. "What do you think?"

Fake Chris glanced at her brother and a silent nod and an ear rub suggested her the answer "It's pretty good. It needs some fixing but it can be done easily."

"Great!" John exclaimed "I was actually worried about the ignition circuit breaker… looks damn damaged!"

"Well… uh… you can change it…" fake Chris muttered, while fathoming her brother's face for any suggestion, but unsuccessfully as fake Claire was lost in scanning the motorcycle's features with extreme attention.

Some say motorcycles are designed to resemble women's curves and, for Chris, the shape of that old-fashioned jewel was more than just provocative. Like a Homeric mermaid it called him, seduced him, attracted him as of an enchantment. His grandfather was right, they don't design beauties like that anymore!

Real Chris bit his lip, trying to resist the desire to ride that shabby antique so damned stupendous, but soon he gave up to temptation and sat astride on that scraped leather seat, placing hands and feet on the right spots as to get ready to start a race. Bent forward that way, he couldn't help thinking how damn hot Claire would've looked in that position. He regretted not having a mirror in that moment. Still, he was sure _she_ looked sexy.

He stomped on the starter pedal but it seemed locked. He tried again and again but it just didn't move.

"Chris… uhm… would ya help me? I'm too light for it!" he said addressing to his sister.

Fake Chris came closer and with a single hit and all her weight she got to lower the pedal but unsuccessfully.

Old Jim smirked and scoffed at the fake girl "You know little girl, engines need a little thing called _fuel _to start."

Fake Claire glared the short, bald guy a pissed look. "Then why didn't you put some in? You know, customers usually want to try the thing before buying, _little man_." fake Claire hissed. _You idiot_.

"Claire!" John tried to scold_ her _for the impertinent answer but he couldn't help laughing at her sauciness.

But real Chris didn't even mind his grandad words, he was too raptured by the vintage gears. He absentmindedly mumbled about the vehicle he was riding, even if he didn't mean to be that loud nor being actually heard by others.

John Redfield looked at his fake granddaughter with a surprised face "Do you think so, Claire? I had no idea you were an expert too."

Fake Claire looked around pretty embarrassed "Well... Chris taught me something… some secrets…"

"Yeah, Claire" fake Chris said, seizing the opportunity to get out of a troubled situation. "Tell Grandpa how well you learnt!"

Fake Claire started talking about all the things in the motorcycle that needed to be changed or fixed, with his sister giving fake nods of approval at his words.

In the end an impressed Jim and a totally surprised John complimented with the fake girl. John didn't mind hiding his paternal pride.

"Chris, she seems even better than you, son!" John joked "do you mind if I call her next time?"

* * *

That same evening, when the two kids went back home from the car dealer, they found Robert waiting for them by the front door.

He carried them inside and announced his family that the Shanghai team had sent their permission. They'd be trying the machine on Miller and Parker the following day. He was welcomed by smiles, tears, claps, hoorays and... Fake Chris running away from the dining room, flickering madly and hardly breathing.

She was having another panic attack.

What if the machine didn't work? She had hope now, what would remain her then? How could them survive such news? The thought of Chris reacting to it, his delusion and sorrow, broke her sore heart.

When finally, some light was sparkling at the end of that monstrous, fearsome tunnel, she was overwhelmed by negative thoughts and dread. Such a fertile soil for panic to grow luxuriant.

It took all the rest of the family around her to calm her down and alleviate her mind.

The following day school went even slower. But when they headed back home, they found Robert already there, on the sofa, crying. Their hearts stopped. Hands locked.

He got up, looked at his kids and was only able to stutter a simple "it worked".

Surely their neighbours would have thought something was wrong with the Redfields as loud screams of joy came from that house.

* * *

**END OF THE FIRST ACT**

* * *

**Xaori**, that poorly written Wesker's scene up there, was inspired by _your_ Wesker. But mine is a little puppy compared to your evil bitch! Anyway, this chapter is for you! Thank you with all my heart!


	14. Here We Go

**This chapter is many things. It started short, it grew long. It's Claire and Chris. It's about sincerity. It's friendship. It's Chris and Leon. It's transition. It's three parted. **

**It's released exactly on the same day as the first line says. I love these ... uh-ehm... coincidences!**

* * *

**ACT 2 - A SINFUL ROMANCE**

* * *

**CHAPTER 13 - Here we go**

* * *

**Part one - End of a nightmare**

It was October 23rd, Tuesday. About a month had passed since the day that (ex)changed their lives. Thirty days to be correct, but to them it seemed a lifetime.

It was incredibly early in the morning when the Redfields reunited in the Umbrella's Neurological Research facility lab. Suspense filled the air, dense and heavy like an autumnal fog. Claire and Chris were holding hands waiting for some of the scientists to tell them what to do. They were nervous and excited, hardly believing it was happening. Real Chris could feel the imponent body beside him shifting on her feet and huffing. He was going to say something reassuring when Robert came by, embracing his kids' heads and placing kisses on both of them.

"Here we go." He said excited and his voice was a bit shaken but his professionality was still showing despite he was talking to his own kids "we will lay you on those stretches over there and anesthetize you. The whole operation will last about fifteen minutes, from the setting you inside to the energy loading and the core accelerator to reach optimal intensity... but the transmigration itself won't take more than 70 seconds. Dr Parker and Dr Miller assured us they felt nothing, it was just like sleeping, so don't be scared. You'll wake up in about three hours or thereabout outside the lab, we have prepared a special room with two beds and all comforts to make the awakening as smoother as possible."

The siblings listened carefully and nodded at every warning. They read the emotion in their father's eyes. He was putting his own beloved kids inside a machine he had helped building and that proved to work well, but he couldn't really relax until he saw his kids in their normal bodies again.

They held him tight. "Thank you so much, Dad!... We love you. Thank you for everything!"

Robert held them even tighter, tears flowing shyly down his rugged cheeks.

They laid on the stretchers, looking at each other, hands clasped together and, after one last smile, they inhaled the anaesthetic, slipping slowly into a sound slumber.

* * *

Real Chris saw his vision light up slowly, the white shadows becoming walls and blurry human figures surfacing from the brightness. He felt his eyelids still weighed by the drug but he managed to keep eyes open.

One of those figures was standing by the foot of the bed he was laying on, the other went closer and after few blinks he recognized his mother's face. She was smiling and holding her breath, as she was about to discover the outcome of the operation.

"Who are you..." she said softly, in a questioning tone.

He blinked again.

"Darling... please tell me your name." she repeated.

His name. She had asked for his name. _Chris._

"M-mom...?" He replied, more a low huff than an audible word. "I'm Chris."

That voice. That raw, deep, warm, _masculine _voice. He had heard well. He wasn't mistaking. The tears running down his mother's cheeks were the prove he was right._ Her son was back._

He was alright. He was_ Chris._

His eyes were filling with tears as he repeated _Mom _over and over again, sobbing frantically, enjoying the sound of that voice and the happy wet chuckle of Lily. Robert almost collapsed under the sudden release of adrenaline, he just sobbed quietly as long as his inner tension relented.

When Chris started feeling more awake he moved his left arm, the one Lily wasn't grinding with her motherly love, and looked at his hand. It was big and virile. But smoother than he remembered. With that he reached his face and abandoned himself in a liberating cry when he felt crispy hairs under his fingers. His beard. His most beloved beard!

_Claire_. _Where is she? _

He turned his face scanning the room seeking her. He found her lying by his right, just a couple of feet away. She was still sleeping but if he was himself then, she was... there.

"Mom, she hasn't woken up yet, has she?" Still feeling strange at earing again his voice, after a month of that sweet girlish one he had had.

"No, darling. Not yet."

"Is it good or bad?"

"It's ok don't worry. Actually, it's _you _the one that woke up unexpectedly. Only two hours and a half had passed since the anaesthetic dose. Are you in a hurry?" she joked, laughing heartedly.

"Maybe that's because I have something to do I cannot miss."

* * *

Claire opened her eyes and glanced at the light upon her.

_Am I dead? Is this heaven?_

Sight adjusting made her realize it was just a lamp. Still perceiving a sense of spinning, she looked down and saw her mother's hazel eyes, then her mouth, smiling, then the rest of her face and upper body. She was smiling silently. She remembered anything. What had happened and what was supposed to have happened. She wanted to talk but her dry throat didn't let escape a single sound. She gulped to ease her voice with saliva but, before she could clear her throat, she saw her mother lean back and fade from her sight. She wanted to scream to don't go away but she felt a hand on her right cheek and before she could manage to turn her still heavy head she heard a voice.

"Claire."

_That voice_. She knew that voice! Too well. She turned, or most likely the big warm hand made her turn the head, and was met by the most beautiful sight she could wish to wake at after that hellish operation. Chris' face was there. Looking right in her eyes with his own hazel brown ones, smiling from ear to ear. Beautiful vision.

"Claire, honey."

"Chri-" her voice made her wince violently. _Her_ voice. Not a growling deep one. But her voice! "I'm Claire!" She was already crying.

Chris had agreed with his parents that as he wanted to be there when she'd wake up, Lily would just stand by Claire saying nothing and waiting for her to be fully awake. Seeing the face she had worn until few hours before as the first thing might have been too traumatizing. He wanted to be the one to call her, _his_ had to be the voice to tell her she was Claire and she was fine and she was…

"You're beautiful" he whispered with a broken voice and leaned down to kiss her cheek, wetting his lips with her tears.

So there they were, staring at each other in disbelief, touching their faces, screaming for joy, hugging tightly. He was considerately caressing her face, letting her pull him down to place wet kisses on his cheeks, happy to feel again the crisp of his facial hairs under her lips. She let him peel her away from the mattress in a tight embrace, nestling herself in his big chest and stroking his biceps.

_Yeah, I'm in heaven._

Chris was again Chris. Claire was again Claire. No more fake Chris nor fake Claire. Just them. No more lies. Only truth.

* * *

**Part two - Put it right**

They stayed at the facility for the rest of the morning as some examinations had to be done. They went home only after midday.

It was new to both of the Redfields the feeling of walking again in their bodies, the change of perspective, the different stature, the different weight. Paradoxically, the body they had lived in for years by then felt stranger. Familiar but stranger. Just like the first time they had swapped, they now had to get used to their bodies all over again.

Home air never smelled better. It was sunny and every room in the house was filled with abundant daylight, making everything look nicer and brighter. Even if someone would have sprayed slurry manure all over the walls and introduced a whole litter of pigs, the Redfields would still have thought their house was beautiful. They were too happy to see any negativity.

Claire and Chris stood by the foot of the staircase few seconds before darting upstairs like lightning bolts, each one throwing open their own bedroom door.

Claire jumped on her bed, scanning her room and savouring every detail of it. From her white and rose-coloured pillows, to her desk besides the large window, her drawer, her photos hanging on the walls, her books on the bookshelf upon the desk, her crimson armchair, her pastel peach carpet, her videogames.

Everything seemed to scream "welcome back Claire!".

Her eyes fell on the ugly grey slippers beside her bed. Those were the only things _not_ welcoming her. She grabbed them and decided it was time to make them step back into their natural habitat.

* * *

Chris was sitting on his bed too. Taking in his surroundings. Bed, nightstand, posters, vinyl collection, books, tv, guitar, daylight. Had he missed his room? A bit. After all, he had spent many afternoons doing homework there with his sister or just listening together to some good music.

What he had really missed was in that room too actually, but sitting down. He had missed his body. All of it. He had missed his masculinity, his brawns, his portly stature, the way he weighed on the mattress.

He now wanted to celebrate the... _comeback_ with a long, long shower. Down in the facility he had already seen _him_ in the toilet but hadn't had the chance to _welcome him_ back yet. He had to recover the time being parted from his dick. He had no time to waste nor reasons to stay in that room.

He had already the doorknob in hand when he heard the knocking.

"Wow, Chris! Did you get superpowers today? 'Cause I want some too!" Claire joked quite astonished, not expecting the door to crack open so quickly.

"Oh I wish! But no... I was just going to the bathroom."

"Here you are, Chris. Take these ugly things and gimme my fabulous minty slippers back!" She said handing him the pair.

"More than eager to do it! I won't miss them. Even if I must admit it, they are pretty comfortable." He said while doing the exchange.

"Of course they are! They're fabulous!" she laughed "So... how's your room, uh?"

"Clean. You kept it well." He said glancing at the neat space behind him.

"Thanks. I haven't checked mine for dust yet... But I think I'm gonna clean it up anyway soon!"

"Yeah, Sis! Sweep the dirt away!"

"After all, what's better than a good wipe to start over our new old lives?"

Chris smiled and hugged her. Oh, how good it felt for both of them! Being anew in the right place after all that time. Chris wrapping Claire, and not the other way around. Chris the taller, Claire the shorter. Chris the brawny, Claire the delicate. Chris the boy, Claire the girl.

"I missed this. I missed being hugged this way." She whispered nuzzling his pectorals with her cheek.

"I missed it too." He said, and with a smooth move he squeezed her buttocks in his grinding hands and lifted her on his chest. "I missed this too." he growled, keeping her tilted.

She looped her arms around his neck, embracing his head in her chest, and let her feet dangle freely. That was the best way to feel light and thin again. They were once more themselves. Normality never felt so good.

"Claire, tell me one thing... did you manicure my hands?" he asked against her skin, amused.

"Well... I had to take good care of your body, right?" Claire replied with a cheesy smile, tilting her head back that much enough to look down at his eyes. "All those handlebars get you too many calluses! And cuticles are horrible. Do you like the result?"

"I'm just happy there's no nail polish." He laughed. "But yeah… my hands are smoother now so thank you!"

"I'll teach you how to keep'em that way." She said, breathing softly against his muzzle.

"Or you could manicure me every now and then…"

"Would you really let me do that?" she asked quite incredulous and astonished.

"Yeah… I'd love it."

Chris pulled her slowly down, slid his hands on his sister's shoulders and parted the embrace gently pushing her away.

"Now, you'll have to excuse me but I have a _thing to take care of_." And placed a quick peck on her head before heading almost running to the bathroom.

_Normality_. What was normality for them now? Had they really got it back?

Normally, Chris would've never told his sister he was going to masturbate in the shower. And even if he would, his normal sister would have looked at him disgusted and bewildered. But now she just smirked, winking at his hasty eagerness to jerk off. _That _was normal now.

* * *

Claire went back to her room, slippers in hands. She couldn't wait anymore, she tossed away her shoes and wore her real slippers. How impossibly soft! It seemed to be walking on clouds!

Still one little thing was missing to complete her cosy outfit... Her unicorn pyjamas! As she wasn't planning to leave her house on that day, she could just wear pyjamas that early in the afternoon. She went inside her closet to grab one and there she met... herself.

Down in the lab bedroom there was a little mirror inside the small adjacent bathroom thus she had already had the chance to look at her reflection. But now she was watching herself full size after all that time. It was strange. Having another Claire right in front of her was familiar though. For a moment she thought it was Chris in her body again standing in her closet. And if she didn't move it might have seemed. But when she was moving there were no doubts! It was her. She was back! She beamed at herself enjoying the smile back from the glass. She made many funny grimaces and tried many expressions. They were there. _She_ was there. She came closer to the reflecting glass and stared intensely at her own eyes.

_Welcome back, Claire._

Before she'd go full emotional, she turned and grabbed her favourite pyjamas, the rainbow one, making few shirts fall accidentally. _Crap_.

Picking them up, she noticed something on the floor, almost hidden between some white boxes and ruffles of dust. When she grabbed it, she discovered it was one of her panties. She didn't need to think about it much to realise it was Chris' untidiness to have left it down there all rolled up. She knew why it was there. Suddenly she thought that it was in that very closet that her brother jerked off every night. In front of that very mirror. With that very body.

Normal Claire would have looked nauseated by it. She'd have thought it was sick.

But _that_ Claire just smirked shrugging.

_Now for this shitty litter. Chris has no idea what a duster is._

* * *

Chris was breathless.

It had been savage. It had been furious. It had been what he needed. He was still under the hot water jet, still panting, still grabbing himself. He looked down on himself, as to make sure _he _was really there. _He_ was. Still hard. Still superb. Still arrogantly virile.

He felt a man again.

He had missed it. Despite, back in time, he had accepted quite well the fact that Claire had to live with his penis as he knew she'd treated it with all regards, still he had always suffered its absence. But now his manhood was back!

He made sure to rinse all the sperm away before stepping out of the shower tray.

Purposefully, he planted himself in front of the mirror and carefully wiped his body, checking with his eyes and palms every curve, every cleft, every muscle, every bumped vein. Yes, he was a man. A handsome one.

He caressed his pectorals, so tight under his touch. How different it felt compared to the tenderness of his sister's round breasts! How thicker his biceps and wrists were! How crispier were the sparse body hair under his fingertips!

He caressed his own body, the touch feeling confirming him it was all real. A touch to become familiar with himself anew.

His mind went back to his first shower as Claire, to the _look_ he saw on that face, to how upsetting that was. He leaned down, lowering his head under the steamed part and looked. He saw the face of happiness. He saw peace of mind. He saw satisfaction. He saw his eyes, then his beard.

_Time for a trim, my precious._

* * *

After a busy afternoon in tiding up and getting everything back to the usual place, they enjoyed a relaxing dinner all together. After so many days of non-stop toil, Robert Redfield got some time off and that simple meal seemed to him to be the best one he ever had: the best _gnocchi al ragù,_ the best roast beef, the best mashed potatoes. It was just beautiful being gathered there talking about simple things, from Italian recipes to his sister-in-law's last weeks of pregnancy's course.

His eyes roamed from food to his darlings' faces, enjoying the laughs springing from his beloved ones. He had made up the mistake, he couldn't quite believe it. He had given his kids their lives back and that horrible nightmare was over. Once and for all. He felt happy and proud.

During dessert, Claire went silent and pensive, lost in her thoughts.

"Aren't you feeling good, darling?" Robert asked already victim of deepest concern.

"Uh?... well... I was thinking about things, Daddy..."

"Hope nothing bad, Claire."

"No... maybe. I was thinking that now me and Chris will start carrying on our lives back... we won't have to pretend being someone else. But..."

"But...?"

"But we can't just go back to school pretending that the total mess we've been for the whole last month just didn't happen. Our friends noticed that something - _everything - _was wrong with us, our teachers noticed too. It wasn't just one day of bad mood. It was weeks of anxieties and pain impressed on our faces, of lies they only faked to accept as truth, of… ugh… We hurt our friends as long as we were hurting too. How would we tell them to forget it?"

"I see what you mean, darling. You're right."

"Well, we need to think to an excuse then" Chris candidly said "one last lie."

They needed, indeed. As willing they were to _fix the shit_ they didn't think about the comeback consequences.

It was Lily to bring on the table a quite reasonable solution. They'd just have to tell their friends that all those three past weeks they had been worried about their mother's health, as some medical examination, lately resulted wrong, had shown a bad breasts cancer. And as their mother had told them to keep it temporarily secret, at least as long as the results weren't confirmed and as it was something too grievous to talk to everybody yet, and that made her suffer a lot, they just suffered in silence too.

They all looked at Lily in disbelief. How could their lovely mother have conceived such an evil plan?

Discussing it, it just turned out not to be such a bad idea, after all. It might have worked. If they lied well. But after weeks of weird attitude, their friends would surely believe their smiling faces.

They had a plan.

* * *

The following morning Chris woke up at the sound of the alarm and soon sent his hand to make it shut the fuck up. But the more he searched the less he could find the stupid bothering device. He opened his eyes and noticed that he was only patting the other pillow. Alarm still ringing undisturbed, from some place behind his head.

He wasn't anymore used to sleep in his bed inside the Man's Cave. There he used to rest on the side closer to the window opposite the door. So, his bedside table was on his right side if laying belly up. Differently, in the Girly Room, it would be on his left side. Funny how both him and Claire, when swapped rooms, just continued sleeping on the same bed side as the other had always done. Maybe it was because of the closeness of the window, who knows?

He shut the alarm, grunting at the echoing shadow it left in his ears. He sat upright, the sight of his room welcomed him, the sight of his grey slippers put a smile on his face. Ready to start the day!

Claire was already in the bathroom when he knocked.

"Just one second! I'm almost done!" He heard her yell from behind the door.

"Ok..."

But minutes passed and the door was still closed. He could hear the monotonous buzzing of the hairdryer going on. He knocked louder.

"Claire? Please... How long does it take you? I cannot keep it anymore! Don't make me go down in the basement!"

He heard the door lock click. "Come in!"

Claire was busy in drying and styling her hair in front of the mirror in her red bathrobe.

"Sorry Chris. My hair looked horrible. Had to apply a mask."

"A mask?"

"Yeah. Guess you never did, right?"

"Sorry. I used conditioner but... I just forgot hair masks exist." He replied, a faint embarrassment blushing his cheeks.

"Don't worry, honey. You did great anyway. You need the shower?"

"Yes, but before, I have to pee."

And he just went to the toilet and did it standing up. Claire could see his whole back reflected in the mirror, her eyes roamed from head to knees, obviously passing through his butt. She wasn't anymore used to see that side of Chris.

As she turned off the hairdryer, she said "you must have drunk a whole pool!"

He just laughed heartedly. "Big dick big piss!"

When he was done, he turned and started pulling his shirt off, tossing it in the laundry basket next to the sink like a pro basketball player. Playfully, he put his hands on her face from behind, covering completely her eyes.

"Guess who?" He asked.

"An idiot! Take those filthy hands off my face, you haven't washed!"

"So what?" He was confused.

"So... that's gross!"

"Claire I just touched the same dick you touched until yesterday..."

"I know, but I never put my hands over my face after touching it."

"Your loss. I did it with your vagina without even blinking."

He laughed and pushed a finger on her lips making her wiggle to free herself from his grip and attempts to make her lick his fingers, laughing all along with him. She was joking as well, in fact, she lastly gave up and sucked his forefinger, releasing a smack sound when he pulled it out of her mouth.

He released her, lowering his hands to her waist and smacked a sound kiss on the crook of her neck, then took off his boxers and stepped inside the shower tray.

"Hey, Claire, would you wash my back?"

"Ha! You can do it by yourself, I know it!"

"Of course I can, but it's much more comfortable being scraped by someone else!" He said reminiscing how much he appreciated when fake Chris washed him.

"Sorry, Chris. Gotta leave now or the steam would make my hairstyling efforts useless!" She said. "Maybe next time."

Her brother simply responded by squishing his buttocks against the glass and making it move like a belly dancer.

"You're such a doofus!" She laughed shaking her head and left.

* * *

They were just few feet away from the bus stop. They were going to meet their friends for the first time after the switching back. Claire tightened her grip on her brother's hand.

"You ready, Claire?"

"Yes, Chris. I'm just a bit nervous. I don't like telling lies."

"Me neither. But we've been lying a lot lately. We're kinda pro now."

"I know... at least this is not the hardest thing we may ever do."

"Yup. The worst is gone."

That day the kiss on the temple felt perfect.

Claire approached Jill and Rebecca with a smile. She knew her friends would soon spot _unusual _easiness on her face and start questioning her. At Rebecca's predictable question, she replied telling the story she had minutely prepared, hoping to sound convincing. She was really nervous, but the shaking of her voice was mistaken for emotion by her friends. When she had told everything, they just threw themselves on her hugging her tightly. The first contact in weeks. That unexpected bounce made her melt and her eyes fill with salty tears.

"I missed you, girls." She said sobbing quietly.

"We missed you too, Claire." Jill replied.

Rebecca pulled away from that tangle of girls and, looking straight in her eyes said, more earnestly than she had ever done "Claire, next time you'll be facing anything bad, no matter how bad, just talk with us. We're your friends, we are here to help and support each other. Not just to talk about guys and have fun! Ok? And if it must remain a secret, we will keep it. You know you can trust us."

She was the sweetest girl on Earth. The best friend anyone could ever desire. She knew, as Chris had told her, that Becky had been the most caring of friends in the past weeks. Unlikely the other girls who'd just keep asking questions and judging and scolding and giving unrequested advices, Rebecca always had a comforting word for her, always a caress, always trying to cheer her friend up.

Jill was a loyal friend too. That was for sure. She had a very discreet disposition, making her look a bit cold to most people. But she was a caring person too. A good friend. Not warm like Rebecca, but exquisite anyway.

* * *

"Hey Chris" "Sup buddy" "Hey man!"

Ok. Let the show begin, he thought.

"Hey guys... I have to tell you something and... apologize." He said with a low tone.

He told the same story as Claire in his usual manners: straight to the point and no frills.

His friends seemed to understand his pain. Even Carlos listened with a serious face.

"Don't worry, man. It was evident you had something bad messin' with your life. I wish I could have done more" Piers said, a concerned look shading his green eyes.

"Yeah, Chris. Piers is right. We all wish that. You've been pretty weird but the important is that now both you and Claire are fine. Is she fine too, right?" Leon asked, turning to scan the crowd looking for Claire, and sighing quietly, brows furrowed, when finally seeing her wiping her tears while Jill and Rebecca lovingly stroked her arms.

Chris thought back at the infamous kissing _accident_, at his words about liking Claire and his care when he thought he had met _her_ drunk. Leon was a good friend. A real trustworthy young man. Maybe he might be even good for Claire, but he had heard him talk smutty about what he liked to do with girls too many times to just let him even slightly get close to her bed and even lesser to her heart. He grinned at that last thought. _Nobody is worth of Claire._

Carlos was standing there, looking down in silence when, at some point, shaking his head he said "Dammit man! I suck with words!" And just hugged him patting his back heartedly and loudly.

So, apparently, everything went well with their friends, it only remained to adjust their scholastic situation.

* * *

Chris stepped in his history classroom, sat on his usual seat, next to his usual Kevin just like his alter ego had done every day for the last weeks. But for him it felt like ages since the last time he had been there. Damn, he had even missed Professor Burton!

Barry Burton was taking some notes on his register, scraping the reddish beard on his round fat face as if something was worrying him. He then got up and started explaining the daily topic. Once the lesson was over, Burton approached Chris' desk and asked him to exchange few words. Unlike the last time Chris had experienced a teacher asking him to stay after the lesson, this time he was relaxed and optimistic. Barry Burton was no Albert Wesker.

"Chris, principal Wallace told me about your situation" Barry said in his usual paternal manner.

In fact, earlier that morning, Robert and Lily had phone called the principal of their school repeating the same old big lie. The latter assured them he'd report it to both their kids' teachers as to let them consider it in their valuations, even if the most difficult school situation now was Chris', as Claire didn't got her grades lowered at all: her brother had had no problems at studying again what he had already studied two years before after all.

"Let me tell you I'm truly sorry for what happened to your family, it must have been very hard." The robust teacher continued.

"Thank you, sir. But it's all over now." Chris said.

"I noticed. You look… you look like the same old Chris I used to know." He smiled. "I want you to know that I'll pretend it didn't happen. After all, your grades in history are still pretty good, but promise me you'll start over studying like you used to do, ok?"

"I will."

"Good. I'll see what I can do to convince your other teachers to be considerate about your situation. Heard Ada being pretty disappointed by you. You should've heard her in the teacher's lounge!"

"Thank you, professor Burton. But I'll show her I'm willing to recover."

After that little conversation with Burton, Chris headed towards the school cafeteria to have his lunch. Whilst walking the last crowded hallway he came across that blond creep of Wesker, pacing in the opposite direction. Chris stopped and stared. Now that he was tall and big again, Wesker seemed no more the imponent fearsome bitch he was. Not that Chris had ever feared him, but he wasn't confident he could beat the shit out of him with that delicate body of his sister's.

And, by the way, he'd have never exposed his sister's body to such a risky peril.

Chris felt shivers of pure disgust run down his spine at the remembrance of his squalid touch. He couldn't stand the idea of Claire risking to end up in the same situation he had experienced. How could he know if that bitch tried again his hair-rising move on her? He had to warn her.

He saw him come closer and closer, walking just a few feet away from himself, those fucking sunglasses screening his eyes. If the bitch had noticed the pure hatred glare coming from that big boy standing in the middle of the corridor, Chris couldn't tell. But he knew that if that beast even slightly beckoned to move towards him, this time he wouldn't have spared none of his fists. His muscles were ready to attack. And Claire wouldn't have ended up in trouble as only his would've been the consequences.

But the pig had to be punished.

After what seemed an eternal moment, Wesker walked past him undisturbed and disappeared from his sight. Only then Chris made up his mind to let go that monster and go on, but he didn't walk much further as he felt someone nudging at his arm. It seemed everyone had to talk with him on that day!

"Chris are you free this afternoon?" Leon asked as his friend turned towards him.

"Yeah, why?"

"RPD has organised a public session at the firing range. I'm going. Wanna come with me?"

Chris thought about it a bit. He wished to spend the afternoon with Claire but he read on Leon's face the need to spend some time with him. Actually, Chris needed the same. "Yeah, yeah sure."

"Great! I'll meet you at the police station!" he said flashing a smile at his friend and together they went having their meal.

* * *

**Part three – RPD**

It had been an idea of Chief Irons to open the doors of the RPD to citizens, especially to people curious to know how the justice machine works, how to contribute to maintain the order or even interested in joining the state police. Hence, many meetings, conventions, first aid and self-defence practical simulations and much more had been organised. For that afternoon the firing range door would've been open to anyone interested in learning how to shoot. As the building once had been an art museum, they even put up a whole painting exhibit on the first floor.

Chris found Leon waiting for him inside the building, chatting with an officer by the front desk in the big hall.

"Hi, buddy." Chris said, approaching.

"Hey, man" Leon greeted his friend, handing him some flyers and waving to follow him "C'mon! Let's go. See you later, Elliot!"

Whoever had concocted that building ought to have a very sadistic mind. To reach the firing range they had to cross the whole East wing's corridors, passing in front of the press room where some convention was going on, cross the watchmen's room, then more corridors, go downstairs, and finally walk the last hallway.

"They keep dogs down here?" Chris wondered as he heard some muffled barks echoing in the air.

"Yup. Kennel's right behind this wall." Leon replied.

"You seem to know this place very well, Leon." Chris said astonished.

Leon let out a sheepish laugh "I may have come here once or twice. I still get lost, though."

The two entered in the firing range and there an officer welcomed them, winking at the blond boy and flashing him a bright red-lipstick smile.

"Someone got the lady impressed the once or twice he'd been here…" Chris whispered, maliciously smirking at his friend as the officer turned towards some other attendees.

Leon blushed a bit and shook his head but said nothing. Soon they were given a handgun each, two Samurai Edge to be specific, and were assigned to a stall. The lady officer explained Chris how to handle a gun, how to aim, how to recharge when the magazine ran out of bullets. Leon needed none of those explanations and just kept shooting at the cardboard target. He seemed pretty expert and skilled, not a single shot was wasted. The way he held the gun, the focused look on his angelic face it all made him look like someone born to be a police officer.

_Once or twice, uh?_

Once they emptied two whole magazines, it was other people's turn to shoot, thus they went inside the little adjacent locker room and waited for their turn, looking through the thick sound-insulating glass.

"She's still glancing at you, buddy!" Chris chuckled, amused by that situation.

"You're seeing things, Chris!"

"You should make a move on her." Chris giggled "She's kinda asking for it, man."

"What?! She could be my mother!"

"But she isn't!" Chris laughed, determined to fool his friend. "And by the way she's not even old. She looks in her twenties."

"Whatever." Leon bluntly replied.

The two friends fell silent and both pretended to focus on the shooting in front of them. Chris knew his friend didn't ask him to join just for the pleasure of shooting a fucking cardboard. He had seen how skilled he was, Leon didn't just need some more practice. Chris knew Leon wanted to talk with him. It was a matter of time and they'd have tackled some big matters.

"You shoot pretty well." Leon said, breaking the silence. "Some more practice and you'll be worthy of S.T.A.R.S., mate!"

"Thanks. And you're fucking awesome, Leon! Guess you've been here more than just twice…" Chris chuckled.

"Yeah… you know, I'm considering joining the police."

"Really? And quit the school?"

"Oh, no, no… I can attend the Police Academy instead of going to college. You know I… I mean, Mom wants me to go to a college but…" Leon hesitantly said and shrugged.

"You want to become an officer, right?" Chris said, completing his friend's sentence to encourage him to open up.

"I do." He replied.

"Then you should go to the Academy. It's only yours the choice, buddy. You still have a couple of years to ponder it out."

"Mh-mh." Leon nodded, humming. After a little pause, he added a murmured "And I don't want to leave Mom alone now that she's divorced."

Those were the last words Leon spelled before turning silent anew. Chris knew Leon always clamed up about his parents' divorce, but he also knew that his friend's desire to fight the crime and become a protector of the citizens originated from his hatred towards that violent beast of his father.

All that silence was unnerving Chris. He glanced at him. Leon was absentmindedly staring past the glass but it was obvious something was storming in his mind. Chris was pretty damn sure that Leon was on the verge of exploding. The time bomb's countdown was coming to an end.

As Chris breathed in to speak, Leon anticipated him.

"Why the fuck did you cut me off of your life?" the young blond sternly asked staring at Chris right in his hazel brown eyes.

A look he couldn't hold for much long. That question, so hard and direct, hit him right in the core. Chris didn't expect Leon to be that pissed at him. His reaction by the bus stop had been just polite and friendly, he now was claiming due explanations.

"I'm sorry, but as I told yo-"

"Yeah you told me about Lily. I'm asking you why the fuck you just ignored me?" Leon said, harsh and resolute. And, in front of Chris' silence he continued "You always say we're brothers from different mothers, then something bad happens to you and for weeks you just avoid me, you even have panic attacks and almost die in front of me, then you show up on one day like everything's fine and expect me to buy your lies?!"

Chris' heart ached bad. How could he apologise for his sister's sorrow? For something he hadn't done? "We all make mistakes."

Lame. But that's all he could say in that moment.

"Yeah, right." Leon grunted under his breath.

"Listen, something I couldn't… handle… ran over me. Out of nowhere. I reacted in the wrong way but…" But what, Chris? You can't tell the truth, you can't repeat the lie, what are you gonna do? What more bullshit you can tell? Honestly, he had plenty of bullshit. "I wanted to spare you my problems…"

"Spare me?!" Leon yelled, widening his crystal blue eyes in utter wrath "what am I to you? A puppy? A little brother to protect? I ain't Claire! I ain't no little girl! Fuck you, Chris!"

That sudden rage outburst just got Chris to lose his mind. The wrong name had been spelled and in the wrong sentence. By the wrong guy. The deflagration was immediate.

"Are you assuming my sister is a little girl that can't take care of herself?" Chris shouted angrily with bloodshot eyes, vehemently pushing Leon away with a move he didn't mean to be that ponderous but whose outcome he didn't regret.

Leon almost lost balance but managed to stand. He glared at his friend all his rage but didn't react. He could've easily started a fistfight and he wasn't scared to confront Chris' brawns at all, but he resisted. Fighting wasn't what he sought. He just gritted his teeth and gulped down the provocative burst.

Both took few seconds to cool down.

"Claire's not a little girl. You know I don't think that of her." Leon murmured.

Chris was still fuming for his sister's name having been brought between them.

"Then leave her out of this." He grunted, clenching his fists but managing to keep his hands low.

"Do you remember that time at Kevin's?" Leon asked.

_Hell no that I don't! I wasn't there!_

"Yeah." He lied, still sounding harsh and sullen.

"I told you it was my turn to be helpful, because you always helped me when I needed. I don't need to remind you all the shit I've been through, but you've always been there for me. But when it comes to _you_ being in trouble you just don't let me help, don't let me get close, and you dare say me it's because you want to spare me your problems?!" Leon replied with an almost imperceptible flickering in his voice. "As if I'm not able to help you! As if the _great_ _Chris_ _Redfield_ is better than anyone else and needs no one! He's the big hero that comes to save the day for everybody but doesn't need to be saved!"

Chris remained silent but held his gaze. He was beginning to understand what his friend meant.

"I just want you to consider me as your peer." Leon defencelessly said. He breathed out, releasing a bit of his tension and sat down on a wooden bench under the metal lockers.

"I'm no hero." Chris mumbled and finally relaxed his hands.

"I even thought it was my fault…" Leon scoffed at himself.

"Your fault? Why?" Chris asked getting closer and sitting down beside him.

"For something I may have done… some mistakes." he murmured, keeping it generic and forcing a fake careless shrug.

"You mean when you kissed Claire, right?" Chris candidly asked.

Leon winced badly on his seat. He couldn't believe his ears. Shit! Then Claire told him everything! He knew he oughtn't trust a drunk girl! He couldn't believe he was going to talk with Chris about it… in a gun filled room.

_I'm dead._

Chris noticed his friend's shock and let a little smile dawn among his facial hair. "I know about it."

"When did she tell you?" he hardly whispered, looking down but keeping track of his friend's moves with the corner of his eye.

"She was drunk… it's not really her fault you know if she spoke…" Chris said, bowing reality to his own will. "She let some words escape and I made the right questions."

"I'm sorry for it. Please, believe me!"

"I do."

Again, silence. A most embarrassed, deafening silence filled the room, only the muffled bangs coming from the other side of the wall gave rhythm to time.

They both felt uncomfortable. The one because his dearest friend (and most jealous brother in the world) knew by then that he had unashamedly made a move on his sister and had even been badly rejected. The other for the remembrance of their kiss and for having to lie so awfully. They just stayed sitting down, staring at the void, waiting for someone to speak first.

"So… how are you gonna kill me?" Leon joked, trying to let off steam "Just make it quick. Can I spell my last words? Have a last cigarette?"

Chris laughed at him "Last words?"

"Don't they give last words to condemned?"

"I think so. What would be yours?"

Leon thought about it few seconds and then shrugged "_Story of my life_."

"Awful choice. Let me tell you that." he laughed.

After a while Leon asked "Why aren't you mad at me? You don't seem mad at me."

"Ugh… I kinda am not." Chris replied huffing and shifting on his seat. "Claire told me everything. When she was sober. I know you been uh… respectful. I know everything you told her. And I believe her." _As I believe my own ears and eyes._

"So… will I survive today?" Leon asked laughing.

"Yeah. You will this time." Chris replied. Then, becoming dead serious, he added with a solemn tone "But don't try even thinking about making a move on my sister ever again." And glared the younger guy a grave, threatening look.

Leon nodded and looked away, shifting forward and downheartedly rubbing his forehead. "Don't worry. She's doesn't even consider me."

Chris left a heavy-handed pat on Leon's curved back trying to hearten his friend.

"Chris?"

"Yeah, what?"

"I have one last question but I want you to be honest."

"I always am."

"This last week I felt you even more distant… standoffish… did you… did you avoid me because of… because of what happened at Carlos'?"

Chris didn't immediately understand which event he was talking about but when he did, his mind panicked. "Y-you mean… _P-piers_?"

"Yeah."

"…"

"Guess the answer is yes."

"…"

"I don't want you to feel embarrassed."

"I was drunk."

"I noticed!" Leon exclaimed, laughing on top of his lungs.

"I don't know why I did it. Believe me. I have no fucking idea." This time Chris wasn't lying. He really had no idea what crossed his sister's mind when she kissed Piers on that stool. "I-I don't like him… You know what I mean."

"I know. Fuck, Chris! That didn't even cross my mind for a single moment!" Leon said.

Chris was confused. Didn't Claire tell him that she had been caught while intensely making out with Piers? All touching and moaning and grasping? She told her hands were all over him! If it was the other way around, Leon kissing a guy that way, Chris would've thought there was some kind of romance going on, for sure!

"I know you too well. I know you don't like boys, man." Leon continued. "If I thought any different, then I wouldn't be the close friend I suppose to be."

"What you thought then?" Chris wondered.

"Honestly? That you were high as fuck."

"But I don't do drugs, you know that!"

"And I know you don't do boys so…" Leon laughed at his hazardous joke, gaining a scoffing smirk and an elbow nudge by his friend.

"Mh… maybe I was high. I can't tell." Chris shrugged. And leaned forward rubbing his face in his palms, planting elbows on his knees. "You haven't told anybody, have you?"

"No, I haven't. And Piers doesn't remember a thing."

"As Piers does."

* * *

Chris was walking down the sidewalk towards his house. It wasn't even dinner time but the streetlights were already on. He was exhausted. The first school day as Chris and it had been so tiring. But he didn't regret a single moment of it. From the annoying alarm to the needed talk with Leon.

The two of them had parted ways few blocks before, smiling and joking as they have always done. Each one appreciating to have his friend back again. Everything had been settled between them in the end. Their friendship grew up a lot on that day. The bond strengthened.

At the end of that day, it seemed everything was just returning to its own natural place and state. Classmates, teachers, grades, slippers, rooms, phones, genders, names.

Only one thing just didn't. Their siblinghood.

Finally, his house. He couldn't wait to get in there and meet Claire and spend the whole evening with her. He wasn't anymore accustomed to be parted from her all that time. For the last weeks he always had her around all day, except for school time. But still, even there, or whenever she wasn't around, he had her body to feel her close. Now that both soul and body weren't with him, he felt… lonely. She was just away from him and he hated it.

He was already on the cobblestone driveway when she peeped out the front door all wrapped in a thick black trench coat.

"Hey! Are you leaving?" Chris asked, an incredulous expression cracking on his face as she approached, all joyfully jumping down the few wooden steps.

"Yup, Chris!" she replied, smiling from ear to ear. "I'm going to Becky for a sleepover."

"Oh… I thought we'd have dinner together tonight." He replied, trying to conceal his disappointment the best he could, as his plans for the evening got crashed in front of his eyes. "What you got there?"

Claire opened the paper bag she was carrying and let him peer at the inside. "It's just the body scrub."

The sight of that white jar summoned a ton of hot memories within him. The naked bodies of Jill and Rebecca appeared vivid in his mind, secret fantasies powerfully resurfaced.

"There's still enough for another girly night!" she winked "I can't wait to try it! I'm so excited!"

_Yeah, me too._

"Ok, Sis… see you tomorrow then…" he said and, as she was departing, he grasped her arm and tugged her closer.

"Where do you think you're going without my kiss?" he asked with a low growled whisper and clasped his lips on her forehead, keeping them pressed until he felt her relax against his body. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, honey." She whispered as she pulled back, smiling softly at his intense stare.

He got home only when she disappeared behind a neighbour's hedge. He didn't even bother to announce he was back, but simply slammed the door and slumped onto his bed. His heart was pumping hard, his mind was still raging with memories of Claire in the shower with her friends all covered with the smelly scrub, images of Claire in the pink bed with Moira, Claire reflected in the closet mirror, Claire speaking nasty under his palms.

He could still feel the wet, warm, slippery feeling of her most intimate skin under his fingertips, even though, those very fingers never touched it. Well, at least not with him inside!

Then his fantasies of her acting naughty with other girls began to reach impossible heights of depravation and the more he got lost in those, the more his smile would widen.

He slid his phone out the pocket and then looked down on himself and smirked "Well, it's just you and me buddy."


	15. Not Allowed

So, little recap. On Tuesday they switched back. On Wednesday they went back to school and tried to fix everything (and Leon was so aaaaaw in the RPD).

Now for the following days.

A huge huge thank you to **Xaori** for her great help with revising this chapter and for her inspiring support and art!

P.S. About that corny "_christening_" joke… well that's what you get when an Italian mind deals with English writing. In Italian that would've been a hilarious word pun (you know, christening, blessing in general, is done by spraying holy water… just like fake Chris sprayed… other fluids over her shirts…).

* * *

**CHAPTER 14 - Not allowed**

It was Friday night, the first one after the switch back.

Only few days had passed since then and they were already living their days at light-speed pace, desirous to catch up on lost time. In fact, besides school and friends, both had resumed their hobbies.

On Thursday, Chris had returned to gym for the first time and worked out hard, eager to feel his muscles and tendons burn and stretch under the massive weight of handlebars, sweat drenching his loose tank tops. Meanwhile, Claire went to her ballet school and told her teacher that her muscle tear had healed way before than expected thus she could start dancing again, hoping it wasn't too late for that Christmas recital. When she danced for the first time she almost cried. Dancing made her feel good, _Luigi_ _Einaudi's_ piano pieces made her feel light.

Yeah, Thursday had been a busy day that kept them parted.

Unfortunately, Thursday's night hadn't been any different as, when Chris gleefully knocked at her door after dinner, chips and DVD in hand, he found her by the desk, nose deep in her science book. And that was enough to turn his enthusiastic gaze into a disappointed frown. He observed her for a while from the doorframe, unseen by her.

"Guess you're out to pull an all-nighter." He had forlornly muttered, his low voice vibrating through the silent bedroom.

"Yeah… science test tomorrow." She replied yawning, without turning towards the door, fast scribbling some notes on her copybook. "You signed it in my agenda yourself, remember?"

"I do." He replied, foreseeing his plans for the evening crash down once more. He lowered his useless load, downcast look dropping onto the carpet, and lastly asked with a shrug "Do you need help?"

"Oh no thanks…" she answered "you know, it's _my_ homework again… it's easy."

"You sure? Together we can make it faster."

"No worries, sweetie. I'm actually kinda happy to study _this_ shit again." She assured, still without raising her eyes from the pages, and sneered "Can you believe I said that?"

Chris silently closed the door and went downstairs, angrily hurling chips and movie back in their places. He deliberately ignored his mother's surprised and investigative gaze at his unmotivated tantrum, and simply went outside in the veranda for a lonesome cigarette in the cool October air. He smoked with irritation and just tossed the cigarette in the dark before it was even over, huffing out the last blow of smoke along with a scornful grunt. Nicotine just failed to fill any void. Not that anything could fill the emptiness in his heart anyway. Only Claire could.

Second lonely night in a row.

But on that _Friday_ night, alone in Man's Cave, Chris had no intention to spend it away from her. If she seemed pleased by all that lively bustle that had returned into their lives, he was growing annoyed instead. Being parted that much was something he couldn't bear. After all that time being almost as one, albeit a hybrid of their own selves, being again _just_ Chris wasn't easy. Wasn't pleasant. Wasn't normal. It seemed to him that now that he was back into his real body it was too big for him, like a loose jumper that had been stretched too much and now it wasn't fitting anymore. He felt lonely inside, he longed for someone to help him fill all the blank space left. That's why he texted her.

_Chris: honey, you awake?_

**Claire**_: yeah... I was actually reading to get me to sleep_

_Chris: wanna talk a bit?_

**Claire**_: Ok. Is everything alright?_

_Chris: yes don't worry. I just missed my girl (heart)_

**Claire**_: I missed you too (heart shaped eyes)_

_Chris: why don't you come on over here? So we can catch up on our day. I barely saw you. _

**Claire**_: already there, honey (heart)_

_Chris: just one thing_

**Claire**_: what?_

_Chris: are you wearing one of those ridiculous anti-sex one-piece sacs you call pyjamas?_

**Claire**_: you OBVIOUSLY mean the FabRainbowcorn Suit. Yyyyyyup._

_Chris: take it off._

**Claire**_: why? It's beautiful!_

_Chris: no it isn't. Beautiful is what's underneath it. NOT the sac itself._

**Claire**_: if you don't like it... I'm not coming u.u_

_Chris: hey I just complimented! Don't ignore that... c'mon! Come here. I'm so lonely (broken heart)_

**Claire**_: Is my Suit invited too?_

_Chris: if you bring it I'll rip it off your body._

**Claire**_: and leave me barenaked? In late October?! You are despicable!_

_Chris: I'll lend you one of my shirts._

**Claire**_: no way man. It's all or nothing. FabRainbowcorn or no Claire._

_Chris: just come here. Even bring along your pyjamas. But you won't wear it much long here anyway_

**Claire**_: is that a threat or are you trying to seduce me? (Smirk)_

_Chris: does my girl need to be seduced? _

**Claire**_: maybe... who knows?_

_Chris: then just come here and we'll figure it out_

There they went. Again that sick role play. They had never really stopped.

Apparently, they hadn't any more pain to alleviate, no more daily torments to forget, hence no more reasons to misbehave. Nevertheless, they kept spiralling down as their lives started going up again, like they couldn't reset the direction anymore. Truth is, their relationship was screwed - forever.

In that bunch of days since they had regained their true genders, they had kept flirting all the time, or at least in all the few moments they had met, utterly unconscious of the aberrancy of it. Blind to the dangerous signals their bodies were sending. For example, on Wednesday morning, when he had kissed her neck, she had felt shivers of purest pleasure run down her spine and reverberate through all her body below the bathrobe, turning on an alarming heat down the pit of her belly. She felt it, she enjoyed it, yet she didn't question. She didn't care. Moreover, Chris didn't mind that, every time he'd masturbate, he kept picturing his sister's body, even now that it wasn't handy anymore. He didn't mind his languid stare on her curves when she'd walk by him, nor his desire to glue his palms on her flesh.

Were they losing their morals? They already had. It was too late now. They were playing that damned role game, faking to be an unreal couple, and they were beginning to confuse fiction with reality. Can words change people's minds, attitudes and beliefs?

Chris heard Girly Room door close quietly. He also saw his doorknob gyrate slowly and silently. He sat up, holding breath in expectation, oblivious of how hard his heart began to pound. Claire poked her head in, loose ponytail swinging, multicolour fabric peaking along with her, the tip of her tongue jokingly stuck out. He gestured her to come in and so she did, shutting the door closed as silently as possible. That scene seemed a bit too much imbued of secrecy to be considered just a night encounter of two siblings.

As she approached the bed, Chris tossed the blanket away and got up, went to his closet, grabbed a random t-shirt and handed it to his sister.

"No unicorns allowed in the Man's Cave." He stated, an unforgiven stare embroidered to his eyes "And don't you dare leaving. I miss you too much." He spelled those last words with such a defenceless tone that Claire could only grab the shirt and nod, gulping down every defiant protest that had come to her mind.

"I'll get a cold in this."

"I'll keep you warm." He promised.

She stretched a smile and, tilting the shirt before her, she mumbled "Iron Maiden… well, at least you picked one I haven't _chris_-_tened_ yet!"

Chris blinked her back and even giggled despite the awkward corny joke.

By his desk, she began unbuttoning her pyjamas, smoothly pulling it off her barenaked body, one shoulder at a time, rolling the upper side down her torso and sliding it over her hips, bending a bit forward, unaware of her brother's piercing stare at her bare-naked, pale buttocks. He observed her every move in religious silence, nourishing himself with the sight of her flawless skin with the same ecstasy of a disciple worshipping before its idol, an ecstasy concealed behind a tranquil face. His eyes, so tender and mild in their shape, were hard and grave in their staring. If Claire wasn't turning away from him, she'd have noticed something wasn't alright with his gaze.

She put on the oversized shirt, sleeking it on her flat stomach and tugging the hem down to cover her hips. Once her loose ponytail had been pulled out the collar and adjusted, she hopped on bed and crawled by his left side. His eyes attentively escorting her movements.

Finally, some time together, face to face, close, alone. She snuggled under the thick blanket and quivered a bit for the chill sheets, getting his hand to buck down and considerately rub her nude thigh to warm her up, as promised.

"Brrrr… Thank you Brrrrro…" she flickeringly susurrated and placed a hand on his forearm, as he undauntedly kept stroking her leg with loving vigour. Her cold fingers graciously climbed upwards, rolling onto his elbow, until they rested on his thick bicep, sensing the muscle repeatedly contract under his skin for the quick movements. "How is the gym going?" she asked with a softest voice, fiddling with the edge of his t-shirt sleeve.

"Great!" he replied. "Never been happier to do crunches in all my life!" He lowered his head a bit, enough to watch her better and asked "how about your ballet school?"

"Oh, it goes pretty good! You kept my body pretty well toned. Thank you, Chris. I haven't lost any elasticity!" she spoke, while he caringly inserted his other hand between her round cheek and the fluffy pillow.

"My pleasure. You kept mine well trained too. It seems I've been working out every day."

"Your workout plan is pretty tough, Chris! Man... I had to spit blood to keep the pace. But it helped me release lots of tension!"

"Glad it did. It helps me too… What about school?" He absently replied as he slowly slipped into an unmentionable daydream.

As his sister continued telling him about her day, he began to stroke her lower lip with the pad of his thumb every now and then. Absentmindedly at first, then more and more purposefully. His finger brushed her moist, full lips slowly, kindly pressing the soft red flesh and getting humid with her breath. It was strange to feel that lips move under his touch without his command. It was strange to be outside.

He was hypnotized.

She was just talking, enthusiastically jabbering about whatever funny piffles she did with her friends but still, she was something. Lost in his hypnosis, he wondered how damn enchanting she looked. It was the same body he had been living in for weeks, but still, the way she moved it, the way her lips pursed when she talked, the way her tongue tip cutely peaked outside, the little, involuntary, coy smile she did every time she named Rebecca, the composure who impregnated her mild voice and with which she spelled every word, the gleam in her eyes… that was _Claire_. That was something he didn't get before any mirror. He then realised how much he had missed _of_ her during all that last month. He could make her do the nastiest moves, spell the hottest prayers, but he'd never get to recreate her being Claire, no matter how he faked.

The mirror was gone and gone for good. But the desire the sight of that body could elicit within him was still the same, still there and it was infuriating. No glass needed to see Claire this time, no feeling of cold, smooth, inhuman surface when reaching out to touch her, as in all his past desperate attempts to grasp her immaterial reflection when his eagerness of possession would turn over him. Now it was just the warmth and softness of her flesh. And his fingers were longing for it.

He rested the pad of his thumb before her mouth and warmly smiled when she instinctively and swiftly pecked it between a word and another. No, the Claire in the mirror could've never done something that human.

He had touched those lips, nevertheless he hadn't felt the touch back... yes, Claire was something else from him. She had returned being someone else, and it was delicious and heart breaking at the same time. He could finally wholly take delight of her again, but he couldn't help suffering the lack. It seemed to him he was standing before a masterpiece, one of those you can see once in a lifetime and who leaves you overwhelmed with unsatisfied rapture right after. His daydreaming mind flew above oceans and he found himself comparing his beautiful sister to the Mona Lisa. The effect her smile had on him was maybe even more keen, but otherwise than the Louvre, there were no more glasses separating him from such priceless beauty.

"You hear me, Chris?" she asked, her gentle voice ripped into the depths of his far-away daydream, drawing him back from la-la-land.

"I do…" he whispered, an ecstatic grin still glued to his face, brutally drawn back to America from his mental travel.

"You seem pretty tired, honey…" she observed.

"Nah…" he shrugged. _You raptured me._

"You can barely keep your eyes open… Let's just sleep… it's late after all." she softly suggested, caressing the side of his face. "We can talk tomorrow."

"No way. I want it now!" he growled. He quickly apologized glancing at her a sheepish smile under heavy lidded eyes. "Tell me about the science test. Did it go well?"

Claire's eyebrows jumped up in surprise at the mention of that disastrous test, and she put on a derisive eye roll "Ugh... Wesker. He promised us it'd be only about cells, and you know what? He mingled in even all the fourth chapter! That sexy evil bitch!"

"So typical of him!" he snorted, ignoring her last statement.

She nodded in agreement but eventually shrugged "at least, he told me he won't be too rigorous about my grades. You know, he knows about... well, the cancer story... he even offered for some private lessons at his place, to help me recuperate!"

Chris gave a jolt of panic as he heard that and paralyzed completely, downright stopping his rubbing. What had his sister just told? Was Wesker trying to lure her? Hadn't he understood he better stay away from her? Oh, shit. Maybe now that it was again _Claire_ the girl before him in the classroom, Wesker somehow had sensed her more relaxed, he had noticed something was different. Yeah, he had surely spotted that the hateful, contemptuous stare had gone. Maybe he thought she had forgotten about his harassing touch. Or worse… maybe he thought she wanted more of that. Those fearful hypotheses threw him into a state of utter fright.

"Stay away from him!" he roared between his gritted teeth, tightening the grip on her thigh.

"Chris... what...?" she whispered, confused by his sudden upset.

"Stay away from Wesker!" he repeated, gasping in air, almost shocked "he's a fucking monster! Don't be alone with him! Don't even talk with him!"

"Honey... hey..." she kept whispering as she began fondling his blushed cheeks. Her brother's abrupt reaction was worrying her, especially because she had no idea why he was so upset. He was shaking under the burst of his temper and something she'd never seen on his eyes ever before shaded his gaze.

Claire had never seen Chris like that ever before. He slid his arms around her and tugged her whole body into his embrace, digging his head in her neck. Even his thick bare leg hooked around hers. The way he was grinding her, wrapping around her dainty body like a mighty armour, suggested Claire that Chris was… he was… _scared_?

He was scared for her.

His grip around her was firm and enfolding. His whole body was stiff. His fear was as much tangible.

"Chris, wh-… I don't… please, help me understand…" she implored softly.

Chris breathed in deeply.

Claire had the right to ask, she had to know what had happened, because all of that gruesome man did, it was done to _her_. No matter how his stomach would twitch at the remembrance of his slithery fingers.

Almost choking on his own grudge, Chris heatedly told her what had occurred when, many days before, Albert Wesker had asked him to stay after the lesson was over. Claire listened carefully and, as he tilted his head back to underline his telling with a dead serious gaze, she looked at him with incredulous eyes, shuddering in revulsion.

"Just stay the fuck away from that pig, please!" he supplicated, a mixture of rage and terror causing his teeth to chatter. He fondled her face, bathing her skin with his hot, humid breath, pained eyes wishing they could save her from every monster lurking out there in the wild world. How beautiful she was! How precious! _His_ Claire had to remain pure from the filthy hands of that individual. That reptile disguised as a science teacher. Despite Wesker had already laid his sickening fingers on her body, and that alone could make Chris shudder in wrath, he couldn't stand the idea of her…

"I… I don't want you… I don't want you to know how it feels to be touched by that swine." He avowed, spitting out that last word as if it was a mouthful of deathly poison.

"Honey…" she susurrated, nothing more than a breathy invocation. She tried to muster some cheering word for him but got his lips pressed on her forehead instead.

Wordlessly, Chris stared intensely at her eyes and she could only guess what kind of horrible memories were flowing before his. More than once he beckoned to speak but, instead, he seemed to just gulp down many bitter pills, speechless as he was. She felt tiny tears shoot into her eyes as he despondently pressed his forehead on hers, definitively giving up on every attempt to say anything. He could just sigh on her skin while his open palms kept her tightly caught in his loving grip. He held her that tight a little bit more but somehow, in the end, he managed to unwind his fluster and, lastly, relaxed his muscles, welcoming her in a more tender hug. She rested her head on his bicep and let him undo her ponytail and massage her scalp.

"You won't go to his house." He commanded, maybe more roughly than intended.

"Ok. I won't. Don't you worry, ok?" she made haste to promise, to appease his shock as soon as possible. After all the idea to be alone with someone in his forties who, admittedly, had already tried to lay his hands on her body was the least entertaining of ideas. Ever. "I don't want you to."

What Chris had told her was horrible and she felt terribly sorry for him having experienced such a thing: in his boyish body he'd have never run the risk of being harassed by Wesker. Or, even if it were so, he'd have surely reacted in a disruptive way. She knew, she had the absolute certainty that he hadn't beaten the shit out of Wesker only to avoid putting _her_ in a bad situation later on.

She felt her heart ache for him.

Just like Chris felt guilty for having caused his sister to worry with his reaction. As minutes passed by, and his jitters relented, a sense of regret dawned in him. If he felt her so stiff under his touch, it was his fault.

_Maybe I over reacted._

That had to be their "special night", the first one they'd spent together after the switch, their chance to feel good and finally leave behind all the shit _and_ pretend to be as one anew. It was going so perfectly until she had brought Wesker in. They were cuddling, they were fondling, they were so intimately talking! And he had ruined everything! He cursed himself for not having postponed that fucking warning to the next morning. Now she wasn't in the mood for cuddles anymore and she was surely shocked by his revelation!

He felt an idiot.

"Forget that, Claire." He said after a longest moment of silence.

"You forget." She stated, rising her pained look to his eyes "Forget about what he tried to do to you and… don't worry about me. Just let go."

"I will. I know you're not stupid." He replied, trying to be rational "I know you won't do anything that might put you in danger. But I can't help… Oh, Claire I can't help fearing his touch on you. If he harms you in any way I… I don't know what I'd do."

She felt something shatter in her chest at his shaky words. She knew he had always put her above anything else, and he had done it even more during their recent mishap, but his quite explicit threat sounded like the most caring vow she had ever gotten from him. He was the best human being on Earth, she thought. No matter he had just confessed he'd have killed someone if necessary, because he'd have done it for her.

"Oh, come here…" she mildly smiled, looping her arm around his neck and tugging him down in her grip. "Just hold me. I feel so safe when you're around, you know?" she whispered.

He wrapped her in his embrace again and spelled some more cheesy words to ease her down and resumed rubbing her thigh, lest she'd thrill anew. He had a promise to keep, after all.

"I feel so safe in your arms." She murmured, unwinding completely under his touch.

He got how she was trying to defuse the sudden tension fallen above their bed, and he grinned warmly at her reassurance that he was more than enough to keep her safe and protected. Having her embed in his totalizing hug, so small compared to his hefty frame, kind of reminded him that he could now play his natural role of heroic, protective brother again. He could stand everything. For her.

The inward void just shrank a bit with such comforting thought.

Chris had definitely pushed every thought of harassing teachers away and focused on the exquisite body in his arms. Not that he had to struggle though, her body was therapeutic. The simplest touch of her and he felt immediately better. The faintest smile and every pain in his mind would relent.

They both closed their eyes and said nothing for a while.

They were sinking into each other's presence: Claire savouring her brother's body warmness, his heartbeats cradling her, his slow quiet breathing filling her mind; Chris was relishing in the touch of that body, the softness of the skin, the strawberry smell of the hair, the delicacy of the curve of her back.

"I feel so good when you're in my arms. I feel so myself." He murmured, smiling at how easily she could turn his worries into hope, strength, wholesomeness. "Let's not let that creep ruin our day anymore, ok?"

"Yeah, honey! Fuck off Wesker, his sunglasses and all!" she giggled, exaggerating her anew serene smile. She made up her mind she'd make him soon forget all the crap the memory of that blond jerk had aroused. She had had plenty of drama in her days. And Chris deserved only the best.

"Uhm… what were we saying? You know, before…" he asked quirking a pensive eyebrow and resuming his fond grazing on her lips with his thumb.

"I asked you about _your_ day." She said.

"Ugh… mine? Uh… it was nothing special, honey." He shrugged and, squeezing her thigh, he murmured "until tonight."

She loved that lovely bratty smirk that had popped onto his face. She wanted more smirks and less of his concerned looks. "Oh, is it a special night then?" she asked, purposefully faking an innocent tone.

"Yeah…" he replied.

"Why is it so special?" she whispered, leaving another little peck on his thumb, remindful of how he had appreciated it before.

"Because I'm with my girl, sweetie." He replied with a growled whisper, eyes stuck on her mouth, finger still kneading and pushing on her tender, flushed skin.

Her smile widened, flattered by his fond avowal. Just as he was mirroring her smile, as if it was _him_ to be reflected this time, _him_ the one executing commands, she pursed her lips into a smugly, naughty grin and cockily licked his thumb, not breaking eye contact for a single moment. He hardly curbed a gasp at such a tempting move but didn't withdraw his finger.

That look.

That look again. It lasted a split of a second but he could swear he had seen it clearly. It was the same look he saw after the first shower, the same she addressed at him inside the closet every night, but with _something_ _else_. She was something else.

It had that piquant note that only real Claire could give, admittedly. With another unrestrained gasp, he realised it was actually something he had never seen, it was the first time he had seen _Claire_… Oh God, what was she doing? Chris sucked in a shaky breath as he saw her head buck a little forward and catch his thumb with her mouth again, nestling his fingertip between her lips as she licked it slowly and seductively, applying even a little suckling. She was giving him more of what he wanted and she left him helplessly wondering how good it'd feel to have... something else sucked in her mouth. He could only guess the hopeless arousal showing on his own face. Not that he did care about it to be concealed.

She freed his finger only when she felt his other hand climb up on her thigh and grasping her butt-cheek fully, pulling her hips a bit towards himself. She was delighted by how easily she could elicit his hottest reactions. Easy like striking a match. And Chris Redfield was fastest in firing up.

If, until that moment, Chris had naively thought he was only provoking her to give him some of that human touch he had been missing, Claire then was playing with him like a cat would to an oblivious mouse, unaware that she'd get caught in the same trap. For her it was just the prolongation of their usual smutty nightly chatting, but she seemed not to consider how fucking dangerous was playing that game without the shield of their phones' screens. No, she was downright unconscious of that! And, if her sick attitude was blinding her, then her teasing was numbing him... and his reason.

"Oooh… my man wants some late-night cuddles…" she giggled, with a voice warmer than usual, hooking a finger around the collar of his shirt and tugging it down while her hips would involuntary push forwards "I thought he wanted just some pillow talk."

"I do want to talk and I do want your cuddles!" He stuttered, still rapt by her bold move, whilst his dilated pupils would shuttle between her eyes and her mouth as she adjusted in his chest even more, victoriously giggling under his chin.

She had completely abandoned to his cuddles and looked simply perfect with her auburn hair down, her rosy mouth pursed into a mild smile, her hands flush against his chest. He guessed her shape under his touch, the thin black shirt leaving everything and nothing to his imagination. She let him touch her just like he let her trail her fingertips down his chiselled abdomen before resting on his waist. He streamed his hand down her back, on her buttocks, then her thighs, then he streamed upwards again just to restart his descend all over, and recalled in his mind how beautifully her skin glowed under the suffused light of the closet, or how smooth it was under his fingers during steamy showers.

His touches were growing heavier and his fingers dug deeper into her flesh, just like he was pulling her closer to his hot skin, burning under his shirt and boxers. None of them was really conscious of the _tremendous_ effect that teasing was having on Chris.

The game was going to slip out of their control.

After an eternal moment of just breathing and rubbing, he groaned to her head "I missed you. So bad."

"Yeah, I missed you too, Chris." She whispered back.

"I miss your body."

"Already regretting not being a woman anymore?" She chuckled, happy to ear him talk about something that had nothing to do with displeasing memories. She felt on top of the world for having been able to make him forget his fluster. She was so proud of herself! So little yet so useful. _I can care about you too, honeybee._

"I miss your body."

Claire fell silent, her victorious smile died on her face leaving space to a wide-eyed frown. The flickering in her brother's voice alarmed her. She looked up, as much as the position she was in allowed her, and saw Chris breathing in her hair, eyelids wrinkled in an expression of pure strain, his bare thick legs grinding hers. His breathing was now growing hard and frantic. The quiet, laid-back Chris had gone.

It reminded her of the times she had had panic attacks. The erratic twitches of his chest were the same. She trailed her hand upon his chest and sensed his heartbeats hammering crazily. _Shit._

Had she given him back a body now suffering of panicking? If he had a crisis how could she help him? She wasn't physically strong enough to keep him from wiggle too hard... worry was killing her. Her spicy game long forgotten, she let concern take hold of her heart, for the second time in few minutes.

"Chris, you alright?"

She had to settle for a ragged breathing as a reply. Damn, she recognized it. It was a panic attack, for sure. It must have been!

"Please, honey... you're scaring me..." she whispered, voice reduced to a shallow breath in account of a swelling guilty knot in her throat.

"I miss your body." He managed to wheeze.

His voice was hoarse, trembling and low. And sounded desperate.

His right hand suddenly slid beneath her shirt and continued her ascension grazing on her bare skin, reaching higher and higher, his breathing now wild, his shaking out of control. He ripped a gasp from her lips as he vehemently pushed his hand below the underwire of her bra and cupped her tit with a lusty grasp.

"I want you" he roared gruffly.

She felt his body retreat a little bit and with an abrupt move he climbed on top of her, grunting with uncharacteristic savagery. He was overhanging her, her petite body almost invisible under him and the lowered blanket.

He beastly palmed her fully, kneading her bosom with slow circles, and with a tug of the arm he got her shirt to raise leaving her chest and abdomen uncovered, right before stopping moving any further. His hand was squeezing her boob. Pressed as it was on her sensitive skin and under his heavy torso, he could feel her nipple hardening under his palm. She could feel his arousal pressing hard on her. Everything of him was pressing on her and she strained to catch some air in. Chris' body was even heavier than she'd imagined.

She sensed his hot breath now on her neck. He was motionless as, except for the shaking, he wasn't moving any muscle.

"Chris…?" and her last breath was gone along with his name.

He breathed out a helpless, desperate, loud whimper.

He was struggling. He was trying desperately to prevent himself from doing what he wanted to do to that body. He was struggling against his will, his libido, his boiling blood, striving to curb his feral instincts. It was most painful for him. And his sister softly uttering his name was just dragging him closer to the edge of giving up. He was obviously going to lose his fight against his desire and, had Claire done the even slightest move on him, then he'd have fucked off his sanity and scruples and succumbed to his raw lust.

"I want you Claire" he whispered biting the soft skin of her neck with urge "madly."

Madly. For he was surely going mad. He wanted to have sex with his sister. His little sister.

_Claire_.

That name was storming in his raging mind. His arousal using it against his sanity like a sharp steel sword, cutting it into thin shreds.

Chris Redfield, in that painful struggle, was by then paying the bill for more than three weeks of reckless feasting on that hot body. He was used to get aroused by it, as too many times he had misbehaved with it in front of that shameful mirror.

He was addicted to his sister gasping his name, touching herself in front of him in every position he commanded, looking at him with desperate eyes, begging for him to take her, whispering dirty words when an orgasm would make her roll the eyes back. And he was now suffering from forced abstinence.

He had been irresponsible and now he was miserable. Which brother would ever do something like that to its sister? Which brother would want to _fuck_ its own younger sister? Him. He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to suck pleasure from that body once again, swallowing her essence and getting lost in her. He had wondered too many times about how good it would feel to be inside it not to want to do it now that his dick was back and was howling for Chris to just let go and make it do its _fucking_ job.

"_Chris_" she hardly panted, when she felt his humid ragged breath graze her red lips. She was paralyzed as if his firm touch had stolen away her willpower. Not that she could really move though, squashed as she was under his heft.

He had tilted his head over hers, his semi-open, trembling mouth almost touching her skin. The point of his nose stroked the side of her nostril. He was on the verge of kissing her. Just few millimetres separating him from his desired goal.

He looked straight in her eyes. She looked back at him, her ocean blue irises round like full moons floating on a sheer white sky.

He had no idea where the strength he found came from, but suddenly he threw himself aside, laying back down, releasing every grab he had on his sister and slumping back onto the mattress. He was wheezing hard, eyes closed and jaw clenched.

He covered his face with both palms and wept his frustration loud in his palms. What had he done? Had he really touched her that brutally?

In the darkness of his hands, he saw her eyes, the look she had addressed at him. He had read on her face that she wasn't feeling his same arousal, his same transport. He had been a monster, he felt a rapist, he renamed himself a violent brute unable to contain his eagerness. God, maybe he had even hurt her with his heavy hands! How the fuck could he have just ignored her little whine of pain when he had squeezed her tit?! He had pledged to protect her from every swine who'd ever set his sights on her... and he had just turned into the worst of them.

His heart shattered in deepest shame as he feared she'd just looked at him the same way _she_ had once looked at...

He uncovered his face slowly, raking his fingers through his short hair and lacing them together on top of his head, heartsore and inconsolable. He kept weeping quietly, guilt stabbing him, shame flailing his soul mercilessly. His sombre gaze was a dark mixture of desperation, sorrow, self-loathing.

Claire felt air fill her lungs again and her ribcage seemed to expand like a balloon in the void. Chill besieged her skin now that his warmth had dashed away with him.

She glanced at him. He was laying on his back, completely uncovered, with his hands crossed over the head and an explicit bulge jutting out of his hefty thighs, decently clothed by his stretched boxers, such a contrast with the distress printed on his beautiful features.

Not that she was laying down in a more decorous condition. She was all stretched out on the mattress, her shirt pulled up, the cup of her bra misplaced leaving her nipple exposed and her panties showing _en plein air_, between the creamy skin of her slightly bent, scattered legs. She demurely pulled her garments back in their places and rested her hands on her belly, trying to ignore the chilly goose-bumps blooming all over her exposed body.

She didn't know how many minutes had passed but neither him nor she had moved. They stood there, exposed to the cool air of the room, noses pointing at the white ceiling. Shamefully observed by all the judgemental eyes in the posters. They could almost hear Robert Plant shook his curly head and click his tongue in disdain.

She wanted to say something but she feared that it would've made him lose control, as her previous speaking had just exasperated him. She had noticed that when she had pronounced his name he had lost a bit of the little restraint he showed.

She dared address another glance at him. Chris was now breathing more regularly, eyes closed, but still a heavy frown overlaid his features. The hard-on seemed vanished too. Claire thought that maybe he had fallen asleep, thus she reached out to the edge of the scattered blanket and pulled it up to cover him, gasping when he suddenly shifted while doing that. He wasn't sleeping. Not at all.

He looked at her, indecipherable expression on his reddish eyes. She finished adjusting the blanket and leaned back, laying down on her side, face towards him, hand under her cheek like a pillow. They locked gazes. Without changing his position, he raised his left hand, praying with all his soul that she wouldn't flinch nor reject his touch, and gently brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers, sighing deeply before start talking.

"Forgive me, Claire." And she had never heard him speak that broken hearted ever before.

"It's fine." She sighed, forcing a sweet but unconvincing smile.

She could've lied to him a thousand times but he could have always read her face like an open book. He read hurt, he read chagrin, he read hatred, and that _truth_ his blaming, irrational mind claimed to read, hit him like a ton heavy wrecking ball.

"Fuck! I hurt you!" he whimpered, tugging his hair with both hands in a depressed, exasperated, self-blaming manner.

"You didn't hurt me, Chris…" she said "I just… uh… I don't know… I wasn't expecting th-… you… uh… you took me aback and…" she was clearly trying to sort things in her mind, but to Chris it seemed she was just failing to invent a good lie to appease him.

"Forgive me. I... I'm a mess."

"Guess we both are." She sighed, laying back down in surrender. She resumed her stare at the ceiling, pensively sucking her lower lip.

"Claire…"

"What?"

"You see me as a monster now, don't you?" he muttered.

"I don't."

"Oh, please, Claire! You don't have to lie to me!" he grunted. "I am a monster! I'm even worse tha-"

"Don't you dare!" she interrupted and glared him a threatening look "Don't you dare compare yourself to... _Wesker_."

"But what I did was even wors-"

"It was what it was. Don't overthink." She commanded. "We cannot afford any overthinking right now."

"It was wrong, Claire." Again shifting under the pressure of his load of unbearable shame.

"I don't give a shit about what's wrong." Claire snapped. She decided it was about time to speak with disarming honesty, not caring about what's correct to say or not. "Our life's been a shit lately, and we won't forget it in a day." She said and rose, sitting upright, crossing her legs. "You still feel the need of my body after a whole damn month in it!"

She let out a little scornful chuckle along with a headshake. "Do you think I don't miss your body as well? You're not the only one suffering here. Watcha think? That I am indifferent to yours?! Fuck, Chris! I know every fucking spot of your whole body! I know how you look beneath your clothes and I think of you nude when you walk by me!" she animatedly spoke. "I know your cock by heart and I've played a hundred times with it! I even know how you climax! And I'm not even slightly ashamed of it! I'm not ashamed of how _fucking_ much I like being touched by you!" She leaned onwards a bit and reached out a warm hand on his shoulder, almost motherly caressing it "You were right back then... when you told me not to be ashamed when you caught me jerking off. You said we had to change. So we did. Are we monsters? I don't give a single fuck about that. I love who we are."

Chris closed his eyes. Hearing that he wasn't the only one to feel such a disturbing attraction was strangely comforting. But he couldn't help feeling scared by his own actions. Touching girls that roughly wasn't what he had been raised like.

"I love who we are, too." He lastly sighed, his face still sprinkled with concern and sense of guilt, making his forehead corrugate in consternation. "But I can't forgive myself for having harmed you. My touch wasn't delicate."

Claire couldn't restrain a mysterious grin from dawning on her face, while laying back down again "Well… yeah, you were pretty weighing on me but… your touch wasn't displeasing. At all."

He looked tenderly at his little sister, his Claire, his home. She seemed sincere. He hadn't hurt her.

"I just don't want to lose you." He said and, caressing her face again, he added "and I don't want to lose this. This intimacy we've gotten."

"Nothing on this world will ever change how fucking much I love you, Chris."

"I love you too, Claire."

Maybe they were just too tired, or maybe they needed to say and hear those words. Anyway what they couldn't imagine was that, actually, many things were going to change.

Their foolish dashing towards the bottom of that spiral of sin was unstoppable and the (un)natural ending of their madness would run over them in the turn of less than a bunch of hours. And they just ignored how close to the final cliff they were. No, they thought that what had just happened was a sporadic episode, a single back down, that it hadn't to be considered in its true meaning: it was a warning. The final sign before the road would jump into the abyss. And they ignored it, deliberately.

He had better tell his sister to go back to her room and rest, that he was sorry and that he would never try again to make a move on her, he should've told her to don't let him get too close to her, to scold him when she'd have sensed his aroused stare on her, even slap him in the face if doing any unwanted touch on her, but those thoughts didn't even cross his mind.

For them it was alright to have hot feelings aroused within them by the other. It was just a consequence of their switch like another. And it was so pleasant and permeating and fulfilling that they would not accept to let it go.

"It's all my fault, you know?" he sneered, trying to alleviate the situation and put an end to that depressed moment "If only I let you walk in wearing that anti-sex thingy this wouldn't have happened for sure."

"Yeah... that's why unicorns should never be banned!" she laughed, flashing one of her most endearing smiles.

"Can you sleep with me tonight? I won't lose control again, I swear. I won't touch you." He assured.

"You don't even have to ask." She exclaimed, snuggling under the cosy blanket. "I already made up my mind when I left my room! And you can touch me every time you like, Chris."

"Goodnight, Claire."

"Night, Chris."

Chris turned off the light and laid down on his side, giving his back to his sister with much of her disappointment. He only wanted to take some rest, hoping the morning wouldn't wake all that grief that still lingered inside. Despite all the reassuring words both had spent, he still felt deeply uncomfortable. He was shocked by his own reaction and truly feared he might succumb to it again. He needed her close, yet he was scared to get close again, as if the monster was still lurking within him in expectation. It needed to cool down. But how could a hopelessly turned-on boy cool down if the object of his desire slid her arms around his torso, sticking her whole body to his from behind?

Claire made her whole self adhere to his back, hugging his big frame as more as she could, and she laced her hand on his as to say that she really wasn't scared or disgusted by him but, instead, that she just loved him to death, that he was still her super-hero, whom she blindly trusted.

After a brief moment of slight unease, Chris lastly gave in and even beamed a smile in the darkness. He could've slept sound with her by his side. She had been through his same nightmare: her body had kept him alive, her soul had kept him sane - as long as he could still be considered like that. She had the same wounds to heal. She'd bear the same scars.

He felt so lucky.

He eventually dozed off, victim of the late hour, unaware of the fact that his sister was still plainly awake, mind raging about his touch and how she wanted him to touch her again and more intimately.

She could still sense the shadow of his palm on her breast. She closed her eyes and recalled the stingy rush of pleasure that grip had caused her, the shivers his bite sent from her neck down her spine, the wet heat that rose from between her legs when his erection pressed on her and that menaced to rise again if she kept thinking of him the way she was going to do.

She longed for the mild smell of his breath to fill her lungs and keep her alive. The exciting touch of his lips nipping and grazing the tender flesh under her jaw line made her wonder how good they'd feel on her lips. She recalled his raw growling that he wanted her and she knew she had never heard anything more seductive. Feeling Chris hovering her and showing his arousal, fighting against it and trying desperately to keep control over his instincts had had a tremendous effect on her.

That night, Claire Redfield, realized she actually wanted to fuck her older brother.

Madly.


	16. My Baby

**I won't bother you with any introduction to what you're about to read. But I can't not thank from the bottom of my heart _Xaori_ for her precious checking and suggestions!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 15 - MY BABY**

"Say _cheese_!" Robert said to his kids, kneeling in front of the yellow plastic playground slide to take a photo.

To celebrate the reopening of the just mended _Tall Oaks_ park - called this way after a bunch of towering ancient oaks scattered in the broad bosky field - the Homeowners Association had held a costume party dedicated only to children of the neighbourhood and their families. That year, the City Council had managed to find some exceeding budget and expended it on an overall renewal of Raccoon City's green spaces. New playground equipment had been purchased, the paths had been newly paved, flowering plants had been added in the various flowerbeds and a big fountain had been erected in the middle of the vast green lawn, spraying sheer water jets into the air and, needless to say, as it had been a donation of the Umbrella Corporation, the company's bicolour, octagonal badge made good show of itself on one side of it. That's why Mayor Warren was there too, accompanied by his little daughter Katherine. The man was all smiles and handshakes, inwardly smirking for how good that little investment and public appearance would've been for the upcoming elections.

The whole neighbourhood attended the afternoon inaugural party and the big lawn was crowded by dozens and dozens of children of all ages dressed up as superheroes, magicians, pirates, animals or zombies, and by their parents who shared the buffet while keeping an eye on their tots. The Redfields were no exception.

Claire had started her very first year at school just a week before and, that afternoon of games with her brother and the other children, tasted a lot like kindergarten old times. For the special occasion, she and Chris had dressed up too.

The little girl wore a large pink gown with a myriad of white flowers printed on the shimmer fabric and a headband that her mother had sewn her with silver stars and purple roses pinned up on it. Lily had also lovingly braided her bright ginger hair into the two most adorable high buns that simply enhanced the cuteness allure of her six-years-old freckles. The whole thing was completed by a little sceptre - all glitter, blinking lights and feathers - and a pair of tiny organza wings that were happily fanning on her back.

In short, she looked like a little doll, in her three-foot-six height of pure prettiness.

That specific costume had been sold to her mother as a fairy one but, since Chris had affectionately called her _his little princess_, she didn't care about what was written on the label anymore - not that she could actually read it yet - she was a princess. Period.

Chris wore a green pantyhose, a little pointy hat with a big red fluffy feather on top of it and on his belt he had hooked a little pointless brown plastic sword. He was her knight. At least that's what he was convinced of, and what he kept telling anyone who asked, despite being dressed up like Peter Pan.

Posing for the photo, he drew his innocuous weapon and looped his arm around his little sister's shoulders. Both flashed the best of their smiles while their father submerged them in photos, as if they were two models in miniature!

"Let's go play in the castle!" Claire shouted with her shrill, childish voice when she had plenty of all those flashes and dashed behind the plastic slide, running through one of the big round holes in the wooden structure. Chris followed that little pink and red lightning of his sister right behind, with his sword firmly grasped in his hand and the red feather fluttering eagerly.

They had a high time playing _knight and princess_, fighting an imaginary dragon and recruiting other children in the ranks of their bizarre young army. Claire screamed where the dragon was attacking and how much fire it was spitting, throughout casting invisible spells with her magic wand, and Chris would just run like a mad, thrashing the air with his sword, shouting like a caveman.

When, later on, they went back home, they didn't want to hear of taking off their costumes, instead, as their father parked in the garage, they jumped out of the car and continued their battle against the fake, immaterial forces of evil cringing in their house. The poor sofas, the armchair, the bookshelf, the carpet, the hydrangea - nothing was spared from their bellicose impetuosity.

In the end, when the dragon had been defeated and only those hateful goblins were still a pain in the ass, the war naturally shifted to the first floor.

They were in Chris' bedroom when, with an awkward movement, Claire tripped and fell accidentally on the ground, battering her mouth.

When she got up, whimpering in pain, she spat a little baby tooth into her hand. Needless to say, Chris jumped off the bookshelf he had climbed onto – the Goblin Master had nestled in there – threw away the sword and immediately rushed to help his sister, trying to comfort her from the sight of her first fallen incisor.

"Don't worry… it'll grow back, you know?" he said softly, hiding his concern.

"Yes… I know. Mommy told me when it started dangling…" Claire replied sniffling and striving to curb her little whimper, tiny beads of tears popping out of the corner of her big blue eyes "but… it's red…"

"Don't worry Claire, it's bleeding just a little. You have to press it… like this, look" and with two fingertips he gently squeezed her uncovered tooth gum, to restrain the few drops of blood spurting out "See? It's already stopped!"

"Th-thanks…" she replied, making the tip of her tongue pop out the new little cranny in her teeth, gingerly becoming familiar with that uncomfortable new empty space that made her whistle a little.

"It happens to me, too. See?... Aaahhhh…" Chris said, wide open mouth, hooking a finger on the corner of his lips and tugging it downwards, showing her a growing canine tooth. "C'mon, let's go put the tooth under your pillow!" he said, drying the saliva wet finger on the shirt before stretching out a hand to underline his invitation as the well-bred knight he was.

"Uh? Why?" She asked, sniffling and wiping the little tears with the back of her tiny chubby hands.

"So the Tooth Fairy can leave you a gift!"

"A gift?! Really?" Claire exclaimed aghast "what will the Fairy give me?"

Chris gently pulled her closer as if he was going to reveal her the biggest secret of all times and, excited, whispered in her ear, covering his mouth with a hand "Five whole dollars!"

Being a little kid and able to count only to ten, Claire had no idea how much five dollars were. But five is much more than one, and pretty close to ten… it must be a lot, she thought.

She looked at her brother in disbelief "Five dollars? OOOH… that's a lot!"

"Yup! I know!" Chris proudly agreed, mirroring her astonishment "You know how many candies you can buy with five dollars? ...A whole bathtub!" No, Chris had no clue of how confectionery economy works.

_A bathtub!_ Claire knew that a bathtub is something pretty big, as the one down in the basement's bathroom was big enough to let her swim inside it._ A bathtub full of candies_! She could have swum in a candy pool!

"What if I ask for candies instead of money?" she wondered, bringing a finger to her chin.

Chris went pensive a bit, he wasn't sure that tooth Fairy would've left sugary gifts to a child but he lastly shrugged and replied "Why not?"

"Can you… can you help me write the letter?" she asked, sheepishly pouting her lower lip.

Chris smiled her and nodded. He knew that his sister had started school only a few days before, therefore she was too young to be able to write a whole letter by herself.

He went to his desk and accurately ripped a sheet off a copybook and together they started writing the letter to the phenomenal, bathtub-filling Tooth Fairy.

"Please, ask her if she can take me those chocolates Granny always gives us when we go to her house!" she happily proposed while climbing on his chair and then laying belly down on the top of his desk, swaying her little feet high in the air. Chris considerately tugged the hem of her skirt down and grabbed a pen.

He was putting much effort into writing it with a good handwriting. He and the tip of his tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth were both really focused on the task to help his little sister, despite her curiosity's repeated interruptions.

"Which letter is this?" she asked, a tiny finger pointing at a very strange sign on the paper.

"It's an _f."_ he replied without stopping.

"Ooooh… and this?"

"That's a zee…"

"Zee. Wow. That's weird."

"Do you know this one?"

"Yyyup! That's an e_!_ Teacher Monia taught it to me yesterday!" she replied utterly proud of her knowledge about three out of five vowels.

When the letter was finished, he read it aloud for her and Claire seemed satisfied with the outcome. Together they made a little drawing on it and then they went leaving the little sheet under her pillow.

"Chris, when I'll have the candies I'll give a ton to you!"

* * *

About a decade later, the room was the same but many details were different. First of all, it had been officially renamed Man's Cave, the single bed had been replaced by a double one and the posters on the walls had multiplied. Furthermore, the two children weren't there anymore, as now two young adults had replaced them. Chris had grown up into a giant, brawny, bearded man who laid belly down, arms crossed below the pillow and awake. Now that he was again in his portly male body he could lay down like that again. For a whole month he hadn't had the chance to sleep in that position as his breasts would've ached badly, but now it just felt so comfortable.

Claire was still sleeping sound next to him. The alarm hadn't gone off yet, thus he decided to just deactivate it. After all it was Saturday, it was way too early to get up and there was no need for it.

He turned on his left side and looked at Claire's face. Her mouth was curved into a mild smile, lips partially parted, and her right hand was closed in a loose fist, idly resting on the pillow a couple of inches away from her nose. Her hair, freed from the hair tie, was covering the side of her face like a silky auburn veil. He pushed it back with two most delicate fingers and gently thumbed her cheekbone, careful not to wake her. Once her gorgeousness had been unveiled, he stared at her, thinking just how beautiful she was, and he couldn't help feeling attracted by her. He leaned his head closer and took her pinkie between his teeth, brushing it gently with the tip of his tongue, reminiscing how damn much he had enjoyed her doing the same to his thumb earlier that night, but the taste of her fingers wasn't quite the same as he remembered it. Something was different. Something was _missing_.

He let go of her, chuckling quietly when he saw her faint smile widen in her slumber. She had felt the teasing in her sleep. He wondered if he was in her dream too. He hoped so, because she had been in his.

He pulled back, her smile now his smile, and took a better look at her. His eyes fathomed every detail of her figure, picturing her frame under the cover. They travelled down the feeble valley between her clavicles and the twin mounds of her bosom, that rose rhythmically under the blanket like two bradyseismic young volcanos, the plain valley of her stomach with a bland height emerging right in the middle he knew being her other hand and, lastly, the snug cove between two slender peninsulas that just seemed to never end. His eyes glided over her with the same devote and nostalgic look of an explorer musing on a map of virgin lands he had discovered but never wholly conquered. Under the blue of his blanket, she looked like a drowned world and, like Homeric sailors for the sirens, he would dive and drown for her.

A gentle knock on the door drew his mind back from deep thoughts and his eyes off his whole world.

His mother got in, in the suffused half-light of the room and approached the bed, noticing the gracious figure of her daughter laying in it too.

"Good morning Chris" the blonde woman whispered and, letting out a silent chuckle, she added "Here's where my missing daughter has nestled!"

"Morning Mom, yeah... she slept here last night. We needed to catch up but we were tired too so... I let her stay." he whispered back, rubbing his eyes and yawning quietly.

"Well done honey. I'm happy to see my kids are fine…" She smiled while sitting on the edge of the bed, enjoying the sight of her kids between the sheets. Calling their names and hearing them reply with their true voices in their bodies was something that filled her heart with joy and relief.

"Anyway… why are you already up, Mom? And dressed? It's Saturday and it's early!"

Lily's face brightened up in a radiant smile and the whole room seemed to reverberate the shimmer that glistened in her eyes. "Uncle Will just called Dad. Aunt Serena has labour pains. Dad and I are going to the Arklay City Hospital, they're already there." And she chuckled low "Your uncle sounded too terrified to be left alone!"

Chris held back a dazed gasp and immediately mirrored her mother's same emotional expression. "That's good news Mom! I can't wait to meet the new Redfield!" He gestured to get up but his mother stopped him.

"There's no need for you to come with us now. The labour may last hours, we can't tell. Me and Dad are more than enough to keep Serena calm and William... alive. My kids can stay in bed." Lily whispered, cheerfully tickling his belly with a finger, causing him to twist and chortle - maybe too loudly, as Claire made a quiet moan in her sleep. Chris gently shushed his Mom while carefully climbing out of his bed.

"I need to go to the toilet" he whispered following her outside Man's Cave and, yawning again, he added "but I guess the bed will meet me again soon."

"Ok, honey. We're leaving. Dad's already inside the car and I can imagine him waiting with the engine running!" she laughed, shaking her head at her husband's uncontainable excitement. "I made cookies yesterday. You can have them for breakfast when you'll get up."

"Thanks Mom. See you later." He said pecking her cheek. "Say hi to the uncles for me. And please keep me updated!"

* * *

When Chris walked back in his room, he was met by a yawning Claire stretching under the dark blue blanket.

"Good morning Claire" he said while opening a bit the shutters just to brighten up the room a little more.

"Mmmmorning…" she replied, thick raw voice, arching her back for another stretch and then slumping her arms onto the pillow.

"Aunt Serena is in labour." Chris said lowly, while climbing back into the bed. "Mom and Dad just left for Arklay."

"Oh, but that's fucking great!" she cheered. "Are we going too?"

"Not yet." He replied with a faint headshake whilst sliding the hem of the blanket over his chest "Mom will call us when the baby is born."

"Ok..." she replied, nipping at her lip and closing her eyes again.

"Do you prefer to go now?" he asked.

"Mmmh… No." She giggled, pursing her mouth into a vibrant, roguish smile. "I don't really feel like leaving the bed yet."

"Me neither." He nodded.

"I want your cuddles." She murmured warmly. "Lazy morning?"

"Laziest ever!" He nodded and slid his left arm under her head.

Lily's soft smile had this incredible power to infect people and snug into their cores like a heavenly virus. In fact, it had left an indelible mark on Chris' face as it was still illuminated by a tender smile for the exciting news of finally being able to meet his _first_ _cousin_ ever. "Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" he asked, murmuring gently.

"Mmmh…" Claire mumbled, resting her cheek on his pectoral "I can't tell… The uncles have been so secretive about the gender…"

"I bet it's a boy... but I'd love it to be a girl too..." he giggled.

"Well… we'll figure it out soon." she replied.

"Geez! I just can't wait!" He excitedly huffed out and writhed his neck to shoot an impatient side-glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand.

"I know. But there's not much we can do about it right now. We can only wait, honey." She observed, her palm patting on his abdomen.

Chris sighed in surrender. She was right. They could only wait for his phone to ring and his mother to announce them the good news. Still, he couldn't help being over thrilled.

"Ugh… the waiting is so boring!" he groaned.

"Yeah… but when we're together, time goes by faster… let's just cuddle!" she exhorted, reminding him the reason why they were still in bed and tightened her grip around his chest, just like he instinctively tightened his hold around her shoulders.

"Aren't you excited as fuck, Claire?" he asked, eagerly beaming at his own question.

"I am but I can be patient…" she mumbled, shrugging a shoulder while absently twiddling his nipple through his shirt.

"We're gonna become cousins at any moment!" he gushed, impatiently.

Claire's lips curled into a snarky pout as she thrummed her complaining fingers on his belly, exhorting him again "C'mon… just relax with me, honey. It's our lazy morning, remember?"

"Do you think they'd let me hold the baby?" he stupidly wondered, indulging in his numb excitement and evidently ignoring her reminder.

Chris could've sworn he had heard her quietly mewl in exasperation and annoyance. He almost sensed the heavy eye roll she did.

"Why? Isn't _this_ _baby_ enough to hold?" she maliciously asked, a pinch of snit in her voice, and tilted her head upwards to look at him, chin grazing his chest.

He looked down. The blue of her eyes seemed even more intense than usual in the silvery light of the early morning, and that blue was swallowing him with an intense, expectant stare.

"You're more than enough." He murmured and underlined his statement with a heavy rub on her back and a gentle squeeze of her shoulder. This time _she_ was the cause of his tender smile.

Claire shifted upwards and brought her head almost at his same level, a mischievous leg sliding between his thighs. "Then just hold me." She wasn't smiling.

He felt her forefinger stroke his jawline and his sweet smile was gone by the time she hooked it under his chin. He tilted his head and hers was a mere inch away from his. The intensity of her stare was imperturbable. "Now it's just us. Nothing else matters." A feeble whisper, nothing more. "Isn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah…" he muttered, lost in her eyes. The luscious tone in her voice was numbing him.

"Do you want to hold me?" she mewled, languidly, her leg capriciously gliding up and down on his thighs. They immediately clutched around it as a silent answer to her question by his body, before his mind would respond.

"I do." He growled under heavily lidded eyes. As her palm began trailing down his chest, his head rose even more from the pillow, magnetized by hers.

Their gazes were indissolubly clutched together. On one side, blue sapphires staring keen and impassioned, on the other, gems the colour of bleak autumn staring back with awestruck desire, under furrowed wild brows.

"How much do you want it?" she hotly breathed against his lips. Her hand was by then caressing his navel but didn't indulge there any longer as it continued her descend undaunted. She tugged his shirt a little, streamed her fingers through the sparse hairs of his lower belly and went down even further until she reached the waistband of his boxers. She could have stopped there, that was the most reasonable thing to do, but her body had other plans.

Actually, _Claire _had other plans.

Her gaze morphed into a naughty, resolute stare, a note of devastating arousal inflaming her blue crystals. Her countenance hit his willpower like an avalanche as he knew that just one more inch of her descend and he'd have lost control again. And he feared it, he feared himself and what he could do to her. His rapt gaze was tinted with a sparkle of desperation, silently begging her to stop teasing him any further, but he couldn't get to put up any resistance, not even a supplicative shake of his head, anything but his mute imploring gaze. His whole body stiffened but it couldn't shake him from the state of utter trance he had fallen into. His conscience was howling at him to stop her, to ask her to withdraw her hand on him, to run before he'd give up and ravaged her, but it was nothing more than a muffled scream, as audible as someone shouting in a tempest.

Her descend had slowed down to an unbearable pace once she had slid her fingers below the waistband. She licked her lips even more slowly when she cautiously caressed the base of his penis, gasping a little as she touched it for the first time after the switch back. In her dainty hands his already quite hard member seemed bigger than she remembered. Nevertheless, she acknowledged it as comfortably familiar as she kept palpating it.

Chris' heartbeats were strafing his ribcage and only then he realized he had been holding his breath all the time. Her fingertips kept going down, sliding over his length, barely grazing his skin. She felt him shallowly breathe in and desperate, quiet, short whines escaped his parted lips as one hand kneaded her shoulder and the other skimmed her impudent arm. His head got even closer to hers with an effortless contraction of his sculpted abs. The sweetest "crunch" ever.

"Tell me how much you want to hold me…" she softly repeated, expectantly waiting for an answer to come out his leering face.

"Madly." He hardly uttered, dark irises disappearing behind his shutting eyelids as she grabbed _him_, without further hesitation. He sucked in air through his clenched teeth, exhaling hard from his nose as her grasp immediately became tighter.

That was the point of non-return.

He closed the infinitesimal distance that still separated them and clashed his lips on hers in the same moment his hand cupped her cheek, careless that he could've died in her arms for how many beats his _madly_ pounding heart skipped.

Claire let go of his dick and slid her hand out of his hot boxers, palming his cheek while she kissed him with a desire she'd never imagined would ever rage within her. Holding each other's face, he couldn't get enough of those plump cherry lips of Claire's, just like she couldn't get enough of his tongue.

He drew a caring hand to her nape and, raising from the mattress, he flipped over, his portly frame climbing on top of her for the second time in a few hours. Caringly this time though.

As his ravaging mouth trailed down her jawline her shaky gasp of need caressed his ears, just like his roar of hunger rumbled in hers when he nipped at her earlobe.

"Am I not your baby?" she urged in his ear, grasping fistfuls of his short dark strands.

"You're my baby." He roared, softly biting her throat. "Only mine."

She used the grab she had on his hair to make him turn to face her and they passionately kissed again with rage and desperation, in a way they hadn't kissed anybody before. They breathed into each other's mouth, their kiss keeping them alive and killing them at the same time. A keen, sweetest death. Chris held her as if the whole world was coming to an end and he'd die only in her embrace. Claire sucked his tongue as if she wanted to choke on his hot mouth, moaning every time he swirled upon hers.

Their hands were all over the other, grabbing and tugging and stroking the more they could of their lover.

When he felt her gasp for air on his lips, he realised he was squashing her too much. Therefore he pulled back a little, trying to break their kiss but Claire didn't let him as her head followed his and her hands soon hooked around his neck trying to pull him down. She didn't see the catchy smirk he did but she gasped loudly when he looped an arm around her and flipped over again, letting her be on top. She could've breathed freely now. Their lips never parted for a single moment. She was outstretched on him, feeling his whole body adhere to hers, her fingers fondly raking through his short hair while savouring his lips and his strong hold on her back.

With much hesitation, as if parting from him was painful, she eventually broke their kiss and, leveraging on his shoulders, she sat upright, straddling his lap, grinning widely at the feeling of his throbbing hardness pressing under her tickling spot. With a smooth move she pulled up her black shirt and carelessly threw it somewhere, but her hair fell all over her face, again that veil concealing her beauty. Her fingers combed it back and a shy smile cracked on her face as she saw him simply laying down, beneath her, with his hands resting on her hips, and watching her spellbound.

"You're a masterpiece" he murmured, his defenceless sincerity making her blush.

But that moment of mesmerised bliss was soon supplanted by his usual saucy attitude as Chris, with the sweetest "sit-up" of his whole life, raised from the mattress and pulled his shirt off. Another garment flying to the unknown. He let her gratifying look enjoy his muscles while looping an arm around her and, with a deft move of his skilled fingers, unclipped her bra, a bratty smirk underlining his doing.

She made haste to catch the cloth cups before they'd fall off leaving her breasts exposed and stared intensely at her brother, an expression of pure delight colouring her face. She gingerly slid off the shoulder straps, determined to elongate his sweet agony of hankering for her breasts the more she could.

But Chris wasn't the only one agonizing for the desire. Claire felt his warm breath caress the nude skin of her chest, his arms enfolding her torso and pulling her closer to his, his teeth graze her neck, everything about his touch was just delicate. The fact that he wasn't doing anything to accelerate her nudity, but instead he waited patiently for her to be ready, just made her realise her weapon was turning against her.

She was craving for him to death.

The bra hadn't quite the time to touch the floor, that Chris dipped his head on the tender flesh of her breasts, finally savouring the taste of the same turgid nipples he had been nightly torturing in the past. He pushed her a bit upwards, and she didn't mind that now she couldn't feel his hard manhood pressing on her anymore, as his tongue swirling over nipples ripped breathy moans of need out of her. Without letting her go, he laid down again, his face drowning in her bosom. His sweet suckling was numbing Claire but not enough to prevent her from using her toes to try to slide his boxers off.

Emerging from her chest, he let her glide down a bit and reached down to help her feet stripping him. He kept kissing her while shaking his legs to get rid of the last piece of cloth covering him. Only her thong still remained to rip off. And that's exactly what he did next. He hooked his fingers around the subtle lacey strings and fiercely ripped it with a keen shriek of the torn fabric. He replied to her gasp of surprise with a rough whimper of want on her skin, turning her on even more. She longed for how bad he was longing for her.

He sat upright again, holding her close lest she'd fall off his lap and, changing their position again, he rested her on the mattress, bowing between her legs. He took a few seconds to fully admire her nudity from above her after all that time, his tilted penis superbly pointing straight at her.

"Turn, baby." He whispered.

Without even blinking, she did as requested and laid down on her belly. He twisted her auburn hair into a loose knot and, from little wet kisses on the base of her neck, he began to travel down leaving a trail of slow, passionate kisses down her spine, hands stroking gently the sides of her along with the descend. She writhed her neck as much as she could not to miss any moment of him, and she involuntarily raised her hips as long as he approached her butt with his mouth, until she was on her knees, almost on all four, her back incredibly arched.

He dove into the cleft between her round buttocks and went deeper and deeper until she let out a gasp of pure, keen pleasure as she felt his lavish tasting on her most forbidden skin. She couldn't keep her head tilted back anymore as overcome with waves of pleasure as she was. She could only dig it into the pillow and moan her arousal out loud.

He finally savoured her taste again. Oh, God how damn much he had missed her essence! But this time, tasting it right from her skin, he found it even better than any fingers licking he had done before. He felt complete.

He made her turn again, thus they both would be more comfortable and resumed his hungry suckling down on her, gently kneading on her wide-open thighs. With every little tap of his tongue, Claire would arch her back, dig her nape in the pillow and let out a quivering, breathy supplication that Chris wouldn't let unsatisfied. When he sensed she was getting too aroused and her moans turned into screams, he gave her clit a little pause and, leaving his usual sound kisses, he reached up, tickling her belly button and soon returning to revere her breasts, catching her nipples between his teeth and pulling them just that little enough to watch her tit bounce as he released it from his ravenous bite.

He placed himself on top of her again, staring at her with heavy lidded eyes, mouth open to catch air - to catch her scent - an expression of pure ecstasy inflaming his features. Something Claire had never seen before. He tucked her tousled strands behind her ear and mouthed a silent _you're_ _beautiful_. He then gave her the most desperate kiss of his life and she tasted herself on his lips for the first time ever.

Bodies intertwined, they kissed, they made love to each other, tenderly, wildly, desperately. Not a single inch of skin was left untouched, unkissed, unworshipped. The room was filled only by their moans, smacks and wet sounds.

Feeling each other's skin burn with ardent desire, each other's breath tremble and leap for the increasing arousal, looking right in each other's lustful eyes, gripping tight at each other's hair, relishing in each other's moans, was… It was like nothing they had done with those bodies before. It was wonderfully erotic.

After all, he knew how to touch that body to make it quiver in pleasure, he knew every erogenous point too well and he knew how to use _his own_ body to give her the strongest feelings.

If he knew how to touch her, then she knew really well how to drag him to the edge and please him.

She danced. Under him, over him, around him, she moved so smoothly and gracefully it just seemed she was dancing with him. A sensual hot wet dance. She knew he enjoyed it and she made good display of her gracefulness, using her body to arouse boiling feelings within him. When her hands weren't clutched around his dick, they were busy in palpating his hard muscles, pushing his butt down to make him rub his hard-on on her, flexuous movements of his hips completing her dance. Anytime he'd have let escape a hollow huff from his hungry lips she'd have teased him harder with her lascivious manners and touches.

And she sang. Her mewls and moans were music to his ears and libido. Every little gasp escaping her mouth would cause a tempestuous rush of pleasure under his skin, whose waves would thrash mercilessly on her own pleasure, feeding her fire.

Their dance stopped only when Chris leaned away, stretching his thick arm out to grab a condom from the bedside table. He eased his sister down and placed himself over her, looking straight in her killer blue eyes.

"Do you want it, baby?" He asked softly, throaty voice, knelt as he was between her wide-open legs.

She didn't answer, instead, she raised up, sitting on the mattress and took the condom from his hands, blue irises enthralling him, candid teeth nipping at the side of her lower lip, the tip of her tongue lusciously licking it right after the provocative bite. She opened the little package and rolled the condom over his erection.

That sight was more than he could bear.

It drove him far beyond craziness.

He stared at her with heavy lidded eyes and dead serious face, his gaze warning her that the most appreciated teasing would have had wild, ravishing consequences. As soon as she was done with the condom, he bucked down and clasped his lips on hers furiously, gracelessly slamming her back onto the mattress. He hovered her, leveraging on his elbows and thighs, and he was surely going to shove into her with a determined boost of his hips, if only the little blood still supplying his brain didn't remind him to be delicate, lest he'd hurt her if he penetrated her too brutally. He needed to show himself he was no brute.

Holding back his fury, he slid his hand from her thigh he was keeping tilted, to her hottest spot, drawing little circles with his fingers right before grabbing himself and placing the head of his penis before her entrance. He lowered his face that little enough to kiss her under the earlobe and, holding his breath, he started to dive into her slowly and carefully, ready to withdraw at the minimal flinch or sign of pain from her. As the tip of his dick made its way into her, she let a quiet, shaky gasp slip out her flushed lips and dipped her fingernails into the flexed muscles of his curved shoulders. He stopped his penetration and tilted his head backwards to check her reaction. He saw her closed eyes rest under her furrowed thin eyebrows, her red lips parted in rapture between those blushed cheeks he was nuzzling with his nose, but no pain seemed to show, only ecstasy.

A narrow slice of blue iris emerged under the thick layer of pitch-black eyelashes and she looked at him through that little window. His face was so close that she could only see the side of his nose and his eye, open and dark, but soft in its staring.

As she had sensed his considerate hesitation, she straddled his hips with her legs even tighter, locking her ankles on his buttocks, implicitly inviting him to fill her more and completely. A wanderer thin hand left the brawny shoulder blade that overhang her, to caress his cheek and she turned her face that little enough to push her lips on his once more. Chris' chest quivered with a glow as the fullness of her lips touched his and a quiet whimper underlined the sudden rush that pervaded him.

As if he had been waiting for her approval, he let one of his hands slid down her side and grab her already tilted thigh again, a caressing brush on her smooth skin. All the fury that had aroused within him while she was putting the condom in place, seemed to have left space to a fond sense of sweetness, kindness and care. Each one of his moves was delicate and passionate but somehow preserved his vigorous mark at the same time. And Claire seemed to love it, encouraging him to fearlessly go further.

Closing his eyes, he shoved his whole length into her inners and a shallow hot whimper escaped him once more as he felt her break the kiss to breathe in from her lips in utter ecstasy and tilt her head back on the pillow under his hot presence, her throaty moan accompanying that first, slow thrust of his.

They had lived a month inside the other's body, still they had never felt closer than that, nor more fused. They were as one, the subtle latex layer not affecting in any way the feeling of each other's body.

Their final dance had just started, a dance made of Claire's legs brushing his sides before sagging down, spread open on the bouncing mattress, for the pervading ecstatic pleasure that weakened her muscles; and Chris' hips bobbing up and down, the deep curve of his broad back pushing his abdomen against her flat belly, all muscles contracting rhythmically, possessed by the arousal, his staccato rhythmic hums pacing them.

With each thrust Chris grunted and huffed, head sunk in her neck. With each thrust Claire moaned and squealed, pinching his back and raking it with her nails. The feeling of her around him was like paradise on Earth. The filling of him inside her was the end of the world.

When the pace was getting faster and mightier, she knew what to do. What he wanted her to do.

"Chris" she whispered his name, right into his ear, in such a lascivious tone that he couldn't resist it.

His thrusting went maddening, his furore out of control, his grunts louder and rougher, just as loud as Claire's voice – once a whisper, now real shouts.

"Chris!" she urged.

In his mad frenzy he grasped her hand, entwining fingers, and pinned it to the pillow, their palms clasped together above their heads.

She kept invoking his name and cursed it when she came, frantically throbbing under him, the waves of her orgasm shocking her whole body. He roughly gasped hers when climaxing into her, releasing all his pleasure along with it in one tremendous last thrust.

* * *

They were still breathing hard, hearts racing. He was still hovering her, lifting his exhausted body just that little enough not to squash her but still keeping their skins stuck together. She was still wrapped around his panting torso. Once he recovered his ability to move, he let go of her hand and, leveraging only on the other arm, he cupped her cheek and they kissed again, lips smacking and tongues swirling, breathing in each other's mouth, longing for the other's taste. Their kissing was tender, fond and slow on this time.

She let him stay over her, savouring the heat radiating from his body and the sticky touch of their sweaty skins. The feel of his whole body pressing on her was both relaxing and exciting. Despite still being stoned by the orgasm, she didn't stop caressing his back and arms as she loved the feel of his hard muscles vibrating under her fingertips while his lips would be glued to hers.

After a while, he carefully pulled himself out of her and, reaching down, left a wet kiss between her thighs, relishing in the thrill that it caused to her still sensitive clit. He licked her a little bit more and nourished his eyes with the beauty of her sex, staring in utter veneration from that new, unusual perspective. With his lips pressing again down on her, he let his hazel brown eyes roam past the flat belly and the soft pinkish hills her breasts were, both brushed by her fingers. His roaming stopped straight to her head, tilted back in one last spasm of pleasure induced by his tender suckling. Smiling, he leaned upwards and aside, resting on the mattress, but still not letting her go from his warm embrace. His mind was empty and heavy at the same time. Hers was the same. Both unable to think, both unable to realize what had just happened and its implications. She was only able to mutter a whispered "it was so good" on his lips when he kissed her again, with his face captured between her hands in a softest grab.

They even fell asleep again, naked, side by side and hugged, the aftermath of their orgasms cradling them into Morpheus' mild arms.

* * *

Chris woke up at the sound of his phone vibrating, he grabbed it, groaning, with his mind still clouded by slumber. Without even checking who was calling, he picked up.

"Mmmh... Hello?" Another hoarse groan.

"Chris, it's me. Did I wake you up?"

"Hi... Mom... no... yes. No worries." He muttered, rubbing his eyes with two fingers.

"Anyway, I called to tell you that... it's a girl!" Her jolly giggle accompanying her words "Quickest labour of all time!"

"Oh... a girl... oh, Mom that's great!" He said shifting a bit upwards and rubbing his face to scrape away the last bits of slumber. "What's her name?"

"It's _Riley_. Isn't it cute?" She cheered, he could almost see her beaming on the other end.

"_Riley Redfield_..." he mumbled, an emotional smile popping on his face. "Yeah, it is cute, Mom. How is she?"

"Oh, Chris... You should see her... she is so beautiful!"

"How is Auntie? Is she fine?" he asked.

"Serena is fine, don't worry and... uncle Will fainted only twice. I reckon that means everything went well!" she joked. "Are you coming on over here?"

"Yeah... I... we just need to... uh..."

"Let me guess, Claire's still sleeping, isn't she?"

"She is" he said, glancing at the nude body beside him and rubbed her meaty tit slowly, capturing her nipple with the back of two fingers "we just need to prepare and we'll be there."

"Ok, Chris. We'll wait here for you. Riley included. Bye darling. Don't drive fast. Be careful."

"Yes. Bye Mom."

He hung up and turned to Claire, admiring her immense beauty, his sight rolling down her sexy curves. He leaned down and kissed her lips to wake her up while kneading her breasts with his palm.

"Hey..." she muttered, her voice was low, soft and a little gruff "have I slept for a hundred years? Are you my prince?"

"I am. But you slept only for... let me check... 45 minutes."

"Mmmh... Five more." She hummed hoarsely.

"Mom called, baby. Riley's born!" he whispered, an emotional smile warming his gaze.

"A girl!" she gushed, as every vapour of slumber had abruptly faded away "Oh, Chris…" and she took his face in her hands and smacked a kiss on his lips. "Let's go meet her!"

And she jolted out of bed climbing over him and darted into the bathroom, all her curves bouncing along with her prancing jog. He laughed heartily at such a sight and, shaking his head in amusement, he stretched a bit on his bed, a dazzling satisfied smile glued to his face. After a while of mellow idleness, he got up too, scraping at the short strands of his tousled bed hair. He was about to step outside his room, his god-like body completely naked, when he pulled off the sperm filled condom he was still wearing. He rolled it off carefully and looked out for something to wrap it in. A paper towel might be of use but he had none. Instead, his look dropped onto the torn piece of subtle fabric that had honourably been his sister's thong until that morning. He picked it up from the ground, clenching his fist around it and observed it like an Olympic champion would to a golden medal. He raised it like a trophy to his nose and sniffed deeply.

It smelled like her…

…but there was something more than her. There was a keen note of youthful, rude virility that beautifully blended with her honeyed smell.

It was _their_ smell.

And to him, it smelled perfect.

He used the unusable thong to wipe his wet penis and rolled it inside the condom. Better hide the evidence, Chris. Claire's underwear, drenched in sperm, inside a used condom… those things had to disappear from Earth! But to Chris, apparently, throwing it in his room's trash bin was smart enough to hide their misdeeds.

He heard the water running and Claire humming in the shower. Without thinking twice, he left Man's Cave and joined her.

* * *

"I'm coming!" she yelped, panting loudly.

"I'm coming, Chris!" she repeated, hopping down the stairs trying to force her foot in her shoe.

"This is taking forever. We're going to a hospital not a runway." He calmly said, twiddling the jangling keys.

"I'm ready." She breathed out, skipping the last step and waving to grab her coat from his hands. Instead, he waved it aside and, with a chivalrous move, he wrapped it around her shoulders. "Oh, thank y-" but a cookie shoved into her mouth forcefully silenced her.

He had no intention to wait for her to have her breakfast. She'd have it in the car.

"Let's go, baby."

And they left. Like no pleasure screams had resounded in the whole house.

* * *

"Hey Daddy! Good morning" Claire said, cheerfully bouncing at Rob's neck.

"Morning, darling. Come on! Come on! Let's go meet Riley!" Robert said, beckoning his kids to follow him, he was so happy it seemed it was him the father of the new-born Redfield.

They got into the maternity ward, and there they met their uncles and greeted the new mother with some colourful flowers they had purchased long the road to the hospital.

Few minutes later, a tiny bundle with little Riley sleeping inside it was brought in by a nurse who could almost hear the sound of hearts melting all around her for how moved everyone was in front of that living miracle of nature.

"See? She has the Redfield hair!" William proudly said while cuddling his new-born daughter. In fact her little head already showed thick auburn hair, such a recurrent feature in the Redfield family. "Just like the one we inherited from that ginger head of our grand grandfather!"

Riley woke up and started whimpering, quite loudly for a child much less than two feet long and two hours old.

"She has the Redfield temper too!" Claire said and everybody laughed in agreement.

"Do you want to hold her?" Serena asked her niece.

"Oh yes, please! I'd love it!"

Carefully, and listening to every advice, she took her little cousin in her arms, cuddling her instinctively. Chris came along and played with those minuscule hands of hers with his index finger.

"She hasn't completely opened her eyes yet, but as far as I could spot, she has blue eyes!" William said "another Redfield thing!" If his paternal pride was made of gas, not only everyone would have died of asphyxiation, but also the room would have definitely exploded!

Lily watched Claire pass the baby to her brother and help him adjust the delicate little body in his big arms, remaining nearby to caress her soft head. Lily couldn't hold back a small tear at the sight of it.

"Mom...?" Chris asked, rising an eyebrow.

"Oh darling…" she tenderly smiled "it reminds me of when you were a toddler and held your sister. The care you're putting in holding her it's just the same... you're way bigger and taller though. And... Oh, Riley looks so much like baby Claire! It's almost looking back in time for me." She replied, extremely moved by that scene.

Chris looked down at the baby in his arms, then to his sister, then once more to the baby.

The auburn hair, blue eyes... they were the same. It was really like holding baby Claire again. His little sister.

The same sister that took her first steps running towards him from her mother's arms, the same sister he had taught how to ride a bicycle without falling and that he would help rise up when a bleeding knee would have made her cry a river, the same one he had punched in the face that idiot of _What's-his-name Jones_ for having stolen her snack back in third grade, the same sister that wrote an entire essay about him in her fourth grade describing him as her favourite superhero who taught her to climb on trees, kill zombies on videogames, make paper planes and, especially, eat ice cream without getting that freaking painful headache. He recalled all these things and more. He recalled Claire being his baby sister and himself being her hero. In that very moment, he realized what had just happened.

He had fucked _that_ baby sister.

The blood of his blood.

And blood froze in his veins.


	17. Saturday Never Hesitate

**(Yes, the title is _freely_ inspired by "Friday I'm in love" by The Cure. "_Freely_" so don't faint in shock if the lyrics have been… paraphrased. It's Saturday. Not Friday. The title is actually older than the content - see ending notes.)**

**Happy New Year everyone! My gift for you is a (maybe too long) chapter that, instead of a golden ribbon, has Xaori's Seal of Approval on it! Please, enjoy.**

**I just couldn't let Chris drive an automatic car. No.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 16 – Saturday never hesitate**

* * *

**Part 1 – If you wanna be my lover**

It was almost lunchtime and the Redfields decided it was right to let the newly formed family a moment of domestic privacy. Leaving the hospital, they couldn't stop talking about how gorgeous that new-born baby was. Riley would've been the main topic for the rest of the morning for sure! Well, at least for _three_ of them, as Chris didn't spell a single word. Not. A. Single. One. He gently held the door open for his mother and sister to pass, he pushed the elevator's button for his family to take it, politely gave way to an old man and took the stairs instead but didn't breathe a single syllable.

The ride back to Raccoon City was as much glacial. Chris drove his car mechanically, his expression was plain and neutral but his silence was deafening and heavy. Where was the Chris who always hummed and thrummed his fingers on the steering wheel along with the radio songs? Where was the Chris shouting at other drivers to _get a fucking driving licence before buying a car_? Where… where was the Chris who that same morning had kissed Claire during a red traffic light?

She would've noticed that her brother was simply missing if only she wasn't that busy in texting with the girls about Sheva's new "not so secret" date – in fact, the beautiful girl tried to hide it, but the gossip of her dating Carlos since his birthday party, soon spread around.

"Hey, Mom just texted!" Claire said at some point, looking away from her overheated phone screen to glance at their parents' car, running right before them. "So… uhm… She wrote that Dad wants to stop at a restaurant for lunch… _she's typiiinnng_… To celebrate the _bird_! AHAHAHA!" She laughed and sneered at her mother's poor attempts in dealing with autocorrect.

"Fine. Which one?" he murmured, shifting the gear.

Claire fast tapped on the screen and waited for the eternity it took her mother to reply a simple "_Jacksons_. Two hours to type and she forgot the apostrophe!" She heartedly laughed, rolling her eyes "Do you need me to search it on the map?"

"No, thanks. I know where it is."

"You've been there? How's it? Good? I never heard of it."

"I just know where it is."

* * *

_Jackson's _was a restaurant right outside Arklay City, only a couple of miles from the three-lane highway exit. The façade had nothing that special, just white wooden walls, big windows, some flowerbeds around the door and a minimalist signboard. Though it had gained a reputation of somewhere to have very good meals. And it deserved it all! Robert had had a brilliant idea. The food was incomparable. The finest and downiest beef fillet they had ever eaten.

"Don't you like it, Chris?" Lily softly asked, noticing how lazily her son was picking food.

"Mh? Oh, yeah… I like it. It's good." He replied.

"It's _special_!" Robert intervened, correcting him with an accusing fork "it melts on the palate like butter. Medium cooking, perfect. Balanced saltiness. And that crispy crust?... It's special!"

"Woah! We got a food critic over here!" Claire joked, beaming an endearing smile to her father just to prevent him from even think of retorting.

"Are you tired, darling?" Lily asked her son, ignoring her husband's enamoured praise.

A breathy nod and an eye rub with his palms were his answers.

"_Christopher_… the elbows on the table…" Lily softly suggested, words slipping out her clutched-teeth grin.

He just removed his arms and yawned quite loudly, making haste to cover his mouth with a hand before Lily would glare him another of her gentle _motherly_ _reminders_. He was tired. After all, even if he had slept a bit after the sex, he had had less than five hours of rest anyway.

When the waiter came to remove the soiled dishes, placidly undergoing Robert's insistent curiosity about _everything_ concerning that fillet, Claire took advantage of the opportunity to slide her hand over Chris' thigh.

A caress.

A gentle, caring, absentminded touch. Nevertheless, it made him almost gasp.

He swiftly side-glanced her. She wasn't even looking at him. She was actually enjoying their father's bothering yet amusing interrogation of the poor waiter who only wished to rush back into the kitchen and put down those heavy ceramic plates.

Claire's touch was just an affectionate stroke. Maybe she wasn't even aware of it, maybe it was just automatic. Chris looked down on his leg, her hand gently fondling his solid flesh. He could feel the coldness of her fingers radiate through his jeans. When had her touch become that enticing? Stupid, wrong question. When had her touch become that _terrific_? When had her touch become so… _wicked_?

Claire swiftly glanced at him and beamed him an enchanting smile, bright just like sunlight on a snowy field. He couldn't not smile back at her. He just couldn't. Her hand squeezed his thigh a little just like her eyes squeezed in account of her widened beam. A smile that kept complimenting her countenance even when she turned, unlike Chris' one who faded away from his plump lips.

Pretending to focus on the explanation of where about _Chef Rudolph_ had purchased the beef meat, Chris hesitantly took his hand under the tabletop and grazed the back of hers with his fingertips, but his hand didn't have quite the time to clutch around hers that Claire just snatched it away to grab the water carafe and fill her mother's glass.

He was quite relieved of that. For he was going to move her hand away from his leg.

* * *

Later on, whilst their parents were by the cash desk, Claire approached him. She playfully slanted onwards, standing on her toes and resting her chin on his chest for support, hands crossed behind her own back.

"Hey Chris" she said, looking up to meet his questioning gaze "Do you want me to ride us back home?"

"No thanks, Claire." He replied, glancing down at the immaculate white of her upcasted eyes.

"You look tired…"

"I'm sleepy but I can drive, don't worry."

"As you wish..." she and her quirked eyebrows shrugged.

"I'll take a nap once home." He reassured.

"Well... if I'll let you..." Claire winked, flashing a malicious grin up to his puzzled downcast look. "There's something much better you could _take_ inside your bed when home." She added with a warm, slightly gruff, sexy whisper.

_Me._

Chris said nothing and looked away and she noticed. Oh, God if she noticed! Her smirk slowly faded and turned into a confused, slight pout. Her female intuition began to storm. Had she said something wrong? Had she told something he didn't like? Or approve? Maybe Chris doesn't like girls acting that cocky, she thought, maybe he doesn't like girls explicitly asking for sex. No, no, wait. He loved that. All their chats were the proof of it. Maybe he was just done with sex with her.

"Did I say something wrong?" she asked.

"No."

"Then why you don't look at me?"

He sighed, his chest deflating a little under her pointy chin, and drew his gaze back into hers.

"What's wrong, Chris?" she uttered. "You don't want to take me?"

"Hush!" he spelled, wide open eyes looking around in alert "they could hear you!"

Oh… so he was just worried about being within earshot, she thought. Yeah, she had definitely been too hazardous and childlike! She had just spoken too loudly. Maybe he really just wished to take some rest and didn't want to openly turn her down and make her feel bad… Yeah, that was something Chris would've done. Her lips curved into a lovely grin again.

_He's so caring._

With a little jump she closed the distance and threw her arms around his neck, smiling widely.

It was a little flinch, nothing more than that. A little backlash, maybe? Claire felt it clearly. Why wasn't he hugging her back? She tightened her grip and her closeness. He rose a hand and… pushed her back while drawing back. Just a little. Just that much to separate her breasts from his abdomen. Dammit, this time she had no more doubts: he didn't want her to hug him. Claire frowned. No, Chris didn't want to make her feel bad but... he _was_ turning her down! And worse… he hadn't the balls to watch her in the eyes while doing so. She slowly slid her arms off him and glared her chagrin away from his face.

Hadn't their parents approached right in that moment, she'd have either loved or despised his apologizing hand grazing her forearm. But they approached. And his hand stopped mid-air. Move unseen, touch unsuccessful.

"Chris" Robert called "the cashier told me there's a garden store in the shopping mall near here. Hear me out, if Claire goes with Lily, will you go there with me? It's time to buy a new leaf blower, son. Autumn has come and our garden is a mess."

"Sure, Dad." Chris replied, quickly side-glancing at his sister in the unfulfilled hope to accomplish his apologize "I'll drive."

"Well, seems like our boys here want some quality father-and-son time!" Lily commented, smirking at her daughter and, offering her the arm, added "let's go, Claire. Mother-and-daughter time awaits!"

And so the Redfield family split: Lily and Claire in one car, Chris and Robert in another.

* * *

It was mid-afternoon when the men got home. Claire was absently binge watching some total rubbish on tv when her Dad, breaking in from the garage door, rolled into the living room and showed her his new purchase, praising its qualities and powerful performances.

"Are you trying to sell me a leaf blower, Dad?" She sniggered.

"I'll have to anticipate you a whole year of pocket money then!" He exaggerated. "This precious here is pretty expensive... but the clerk assured it blows like a tornado!"

Claire quirked her eyebrows in mocking astonishment at her Dad, then she eyed her brother step in from the same door, car keys tangling in his fist. That was one of those moments where Time seemed to expand and a mere instant lasted a whole century. Their gazes met for less than a second, yet she didn't like the dark, pensive, apologizing look on his face, nor did he like the chagrined, bothered, hurt one of her. He crossed the room, walking behind the two-seater sofa, suddenly his keys becoming a most interesting thing to observe. She kept her eyes stuck on the leaf blower, nodding at whatever her father might have just said. Basically, they ignored each other, even though the corner of their eyes followed the other until it disappeared from eyesight.

As Chris left the living room, the awareness that he was utterly fucking up assaulted him from behind and clung tightly to his back like the burden it was. He gave one last glance at her before he'd disappear in the staircase. He'd better talk with her as sooner as possible. But first he had to figure out what to tell her.

She heard his heavy steps walk off and she wanted to run upstairs too and finally ask him what was wrong but she couldn't easily get rid of her father's enthusiastic talk. Or maybe she wouldn't. Not that she tried anyway. She simply vacillated inside: one moment she wanted to talk everything out with Chris, an instant later she wanted to avoid him. Internally, she was trembling with the fear of having done something wrong to her brother, having gotten him mad at her. She feared he hated her for having caused him to lose control that morning. What if he had made love to her only to content her and not because he wanted it too? Had she made him feel compelled to have sex with her? After all, the previous night he had seemed to refuse the idea of making a move on her...

Her complicated, adolescent mind was obstructed by those and many other questions that she just didn't think about the simplest, most obvious thing, the only one that would have placated all her fears: Chris had made _love_ to her, spontaneously. She had only ignited his already raging lust.

If she only recalled in her mind _how_ that morning Chris had touched her, kissed her, licked her or looked in her eyes when pervaded by the wildest of pleasures, she'd have surely realised how bad he had wanted that carnal conjunction.

Robert eventually left to go repeating to his wife his celebrative eulogy of the _best-spent-two-Benjamins_ of his life. Claire just pretended to stare at the TV with the same "focused" look of a daydreamer, still undecided whether get to her brother or let the afternoon slip away on that sofa.

That inner oscillation would've stuck her forever in incertitude if, after a while, Chris didn't appear again in the living room to go downstairs in the basement. He had changed clothes to grey sweatpants and a white tank top. She gritted her teeth thinking how he could just want to work out and how dared him looking so _fucking hot_! The sight of his wide shoulders made her hottest spot shiver abruptly, so violently that she had to clasp her thighs together not to let another flash of pleasure rise up._ Not now, Claire._ She heard the clanging of handlebars being settled and she finally stood up from the sofa, more attracted by the wish to see again his shoulders than the determination to speak with him. As she got up to follow him, her mother called her for some help with the kitchen. With an annoyed eye roll, she wondered if the whole universe was plotting against her.

* * *

Thankfully baking muffins didn't take too long. Lily had kinda an obsession with her children's snacks. They had to be homemade. Period. No hydrogenated fats nor chemical food colouring allowed for breakfast, hence she'd bake almost daily some healthy snack for the whole family. Claire carelessly disposed the blueberry muffins into the cake stand and covered the crooked pyramid of sweet sponge with the sheer, bell-shaped plastic top, leaving just two of them on the countertop.

"Do you need anything else?" Claire asked.

"Oh no, thank you Claire. I'll just wash these pots."

"Ok, then. I'm going to have _these_ with Chris." She said grasping the two sweets.

"Where is he by the way?" Lily asked by the sink, eagerly rubbing the sponge on a wooden spoon.

"Basement." She bluntly sputtered.

"If he's working out then I guess you'll have _both_ of them." Lily giggled, well aware of the fact that Chris wouldn't stop his training for a dose of unrequested carbs.

"I'll make him _fucking_ stop." Claire grunted under her breath while leaving the room.

Claire stomped down the staircase and peered into the basement. Chris was working out hard on the bench in the far end of the room. He had settled the barbell with over eighty pounds weight and he was dripping sweat. He kept pushing it above his head fast and resolutely, puffing rhythmically, his biceps contracted, his six-pack peeking out of the edge of his tank top. That sight was more than enough to ignite her lust again. She gulped down and shook her head. Enough is enough.

She leaned against the wall of the entrance and uttered "Time for a break?"

Only his ragged panting filled the air.

"Hey… I made muffins!" she said a bit louder, hoping that word would rock him out of his fitness trance.

No answers came out of his mouth.

Grunting, she crossed the empty room, a muffin in each fist and, when she was just few feet away from his bench, she spotted little white bars popping out of his ears. _Damned ear-pods. _She should've known Chris liked to train with something like power metal songs playing. Of course he hadn't heard her! With a bothered shrug, she went on and sat astride on his lap.

His reaction was immediate.

He hooked the barbell and raised so quickly that Claire winced back and almost lost balance. He was fast in grabbing her by her waist with one of his arms and easing her back on the bench seat, between his spread thighs. He pulled out one of the wireless earphones and stopped the music by simply tapping on it.

"Want one?" she asked, waving one of those warm, fragrant cakes before his nose.

"No, thanks." He replied. "I'm busy right now."

"Chris are you ok?" Claire eventually asked, determined to know what was going on in his mind, and she leaned forward to leave the two little cakes on the free seat behind him, but he just pulled slightly back, like he had done at the restaurant. If it pissed her off then, now it hurt her. "Do I smell bad?" she hissed, trying to deceive hurt with some sarcasm.

"You're avoiding me…" she murmured at his coy chuckle.

After a little hesitation, he rose his downcast gaze and stared at her dead in the eyes, and that alone made her even more confused... and uncomfortable. He was silent, observing and hot.

"Chris, baby..." and she raised one of her busy hands to stroke his cheek with the back of her fingers but he stopped her mid-air. She looked confused.

"Claire. Please. No." he muttered.

"No what, Chris?"

"Don't do this. Don't touch me." He said, but it sounded desperate like a supplication for mercy.

"What?!" She squealed, incredulous of what she heard. Once she recovered her cool, she asked "why? Why shouldn't I touch you?"

"Someone could see us." He susurrated, eyeing the entrance, his voice so low, she could barely hear him despite being almost sitting on him.

"So what? I've touched you all my life." She scoffed.

Chris looked down. His insane worry was nonsensical. There was nothing bad in his sister caressing his face - or his leg like at Jackson's. No, that was plain alright. Maybe her sitting on his lap would've made more than one eyebrow raise but, still, it was nothing scandalous. But his guilty conscience was showing him danger where it wasn't. That's why his hands weren't even slightly grazing her.

"Yeah… but this time it's different. Your touch is different."

"I ain't groping you, Chris! It's a caress! Only a caress!" she retorted, her fingertips gingerly grazing his stubble. Thankfully, this time he didn't flinch. She wasn't sure she'd have survived another one of his flinches. She looked down lest he'd have noticed the tears shooting in her eyes. "Can't I touch my brother?"

Chris let out a surrender sigh. He seemed to be struggling really hard to find the words, but he couldn't have succeeded in his search if he kept holding her that close. Nevertheless he couldn't ask her to get her thighs off his and move away, not after the downhearted tone she'd spoken to him.

He sighed again and rested his sweaty forehead on hers. A mere inch of his warm and slippery skin touched her, yet his touch gave her a little relief, soothing her mind a bit. Claire waited, patiently, for him to find the words to speak his mind. Unlike him, she kept her eyes open not to miss his beautiful face, again so close, and also because she felt that if she closed them copious tears would've run down her cheeks. She inhaled his breath, the strong smell of his sweat, looked at his pectorals so tight under the tank top she could almost sense them under her fingertips, but she dared to caress them only when she felt his hands rest on her hips. It was alright to touch each other, then. Good, because she had missed it so bad.

"Of course you can… but not this way." he mumbled "it's wrong."

_Wrong_. Then he was really regretting everything, regretting having laid her, having possessed her, having loved her. She didn't know what to say, her heart was tearing apart for being considered a _mistake_.

Chris, on the other hand, seemed to have got over his hesitation. "We committed incest." He said, breaking the silence but not the foreheads contact. That word, barely whispered in his usual straight to the point manner, rumbled like the much-needed bitch slap that Sanity had waited too long to smash on their faces. And it hurt.

He felt her suck air in as to speak but she didn't. In that moment, all her fears were coming true to her eyes. Chris was regretting what they had done. What _she had compelled him to do._ Her heart was breaking so bad its shards would've pierced her lungs. If Sanity slapped them, then Guilt eviscerated her.

Sorrow was swelling inside her, inflating like a hot-air balloon, from the core of her stomach up to her throat until she almost choked on her own sob. Chris eyed her. Her watery eyes were all his sight, so close, so blue. Blue. He knew that if those little tears that shot in her eyes dared to escape, he'd have succumbed to his sorrow. And when the tiniest bead rolled down Claire's cheek, he pulled her head even closer and pressed his lips on hers.

Bittersweet.

Both were concerned about the other, both were sorry for the other, both hearts were torn for the words that had been spelled. Yet both felt a shock of pure bliss transfix their chests. To them, nothing on this world would compare to their kiss.

"No, baby, no!" he whimpered, wiping her tears away. "Don't cry!"

"Why shouldn't I?" she blubbered with a cry-broken voice "when my brother considers me a mistake!" Her words were as hard as her gaze and pierced him like icy blades.

Chris pout dropped even more. Despite he made great effort to find the right words, he just couldn't. Whatever he said could've hurt her. This wasn't like him. The old Chris, the good older brother Chris, would've always had the right words to spell to comfort his sister. But not this time. The old Chris was long gone. Truth is, he wasn't convinced of his own words himself!

_Wrong_. He was sure that having sex with a sister was damn wrong but he couldn't feel it like that though. He didn't feel inside him all the deprecation the old Chris would've felt even by only thinking of seeing Claire naked. And that was what had been troubling him since that morning: he was suspended between Reason and Sentiment, brain and heart. His brain told him they had made a huge mistake but at the same time that traitorous asshole buddied up with his lost heart anytime she was around, anytime he'd think of her – which means, _every time_.

"Chris… I'm sorry…" she murmured, holding back her tears and gulping down a huge, stinging lump in her throat. "If you regret... what we did…"

"I don't regret it." He replied, his breathy whispers turned into whimpers by his concern.

"Then why do you avoid me?" she managed to mutter, her heart in her throat at such unexpected admission. That conversation was a stab, then a caress, then a stab, then a kiss. All those ups and downs were starting to make her feel sick, as all her inner organs were swirling like a capoeira dancers crew.

He looked at her, her sorrowful gaze tearing his heart apart. He reached upwards and palmed her cheek, his thumb lovingly grazing her cheekbone. "I don't want you to think that."

"Then what should I think? When you just flinch when I come around!" she scornfully snickered, the subtle tears in her eyes gleaming flickeringly.

"It's that… I just can't resist you, Claire! And I don't regret _you_." he defencelessly avowed, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "Even if it's wrong, I want you."

The girl's heart – wherever it had ended up in, whether her belly or still the ribcage – lost several years of life all of a sudden for the happy beats that overlapped. "I want you, too." She smiled. "And I don't care if others think it's wrong. I don't care about anything anymore. You are the only exception."

"But I can't expose you to the risk of being caught!" he murmured.

"We can be careful and no one will ever know!" she suggested, with a voice that had recovered all her joyful vivacity and hope even if still a bit gruff and shaky.

"You can't be my girl and I can't be your man."

"I know that." She lamely replied, a coy smirk ad an eye roll brightening her face. Letting a hand glide down his tank top, sensing his hard and pumped muscles below, she looked down on his manly cleavage. Words chained into a one, long, hot whisper, she asked "but what's wrong if we allow us some pleasure every now and then?"

Her question maybe was more effective than intended. She expected him to reply with some sort of wise common sense, a sane retort, another good reason to refuse that despicable perdition. But he didn't. He didn't speak at all. And not because no good reasons came to his mind, but because the temptation was stronger than any reason. He wanted to allow himself some pleasure. He wanted to allow himself some more of her. He wasn't ready to let his secret sex-toy go. After all, they had already crossed the _final line_… crying over spilled milk was totally useless and stupid.

Why ever caring if it was wrong? Or wicked? Siblings are not supposed to have sex they say? Well then, siblings are neither supposed to fucking switch lives! Or genitals! Yet they did it! Why ever worry about touching that body? They had undergone a whole fucking month of pure tragedy and sorrow, they… they _deserved_ to feel good now!

Yeah, why not? Why deny himself such a thing? Just some good shags when they felt like it, maybe some blow jobs when bored, a cunnilingus after a long school day… After all, if they'd be careful, nobody would've ever known! They had been so good at hiding a whole month of switched bodies… this was a child's play in comparison!

Claire seemed to be so right with it! Maybe he was exaggerating the whole situation.

_Every now and then_. The traitor inside his skull began rewinding a whole month of the hottest body on Earth and how good it made him feel. Yeah, stop now was stupid. After all, he had already done everything and more to her from the inside and that was ok. Why stop now that he could have a fulfilling experience of her womanhood?

Fuck siblinghood! Fuck blood kinship! Fuck social mores! It had been too good that morning to refuse more doses of such addicting drug. _Claire_.

All those considerations stormed in his mind like racing cars, her name printed on it like sculpted letters on a stone. Indelible. _Claire._

_My baby Claire._

As his baby's hand caressed his cheek, Chris' one bucked to her head just as the other grasped her butt and he jolted upright, pinning her to the nearby wall and clashed his lips on her, fingers curled into her hair, kissing her with the same rage he had used her in the morning. She felt all his lust ravage her mouth and press hard on her hottest spot. His movements were fierce, her grab was tight. Her heart cheered and exulted at his renewed abandon. It was a long kiss, long enough for Claire to know that his answer was an unconditional "yes". It gave her life back, it muffled every pain, every sorrow. Her morphine. It repositioned all her organs at the right place.

Sanity's slap had just failed to hit their faces.

"I think we can do it." He murmured on her skin.

"Yes, baby! It'll be our secret." She mewled, hotly suckling on his neck.

"We must be _really_ careful." He whispered, locking his eyes onto hers.

"We will." She assured, her tears long gone.

The Redfield siblings had just unconsciously accepted they'd live their lives from that moment on in deceit and secrecy, pretending to be the same old brother and sister they always had been and making love at the same time. A kiss to seal the deal.

None of them was sane enough to understand what was plain clear: they were still suffering the trauma's consequences. And their way to cope was still the same one they had grown accustomed to during the switched time: drown pain in pleasure. Only difference: the body they may take pleasure from was now gone back to its original owner. And apparently this wasn't an enough good reason to inhibit them.

"Where are you going?" Claire wondered as he pulled her down on her feet.

"I was working out, remember?" he shrugged.

"We were kissing, remember?" she mocked, placing her fists on the hips in protest.

He pecked her lips and, with his typical bratty smirk back on his face, he simply grabbed the little earphone he had shoved into his pocket and put it into her ear, tapping on it.

"What?! _The Spice Girls_?!" she squealed, incredulous her brother would work out to such pop music.

* * *

**Part 2 – Usual, unusual and thievery**

It was late at night when Claire got home from downtown, accompanied by Jill and her father, who offered himself as a taxi driver for her daughter's friends. On that Saturday night, they had planned nothing special: just the usual hamburger and chips by the usual diner and the usual stroll by the main boulevard, where the Raccoon City's _movida_ would cluster on weekend nights. But to Claire that simple, "usual" night had been the most amusing. It was like hanging out with friends for the first time in years. That day had been just so close to perfection it seemed to her the best day of her life: making love with Chris, Riley in her arms, having talked everything out with Chris and fixed it, double cheeseburger, the girls. Bam, perfection!

And like any time someone has a _good_ time, Time had flown away fast. So fast that now she found herself rushing through the front driveway of her house, preparing for a _certain-as-death _reproach by her parents, whom she could've bet her head were still up, waiting for her to sheepishly smile at them for her mischief. She hoped they made an exception to the _usual_ rule for the exceptionality of her first girls' night after so many weekends at home.

She gingerly closed the front door behind herself, the darkness of the quiet house brightened only by a courtesy lamp left on by the entrance hall. There were no signs of her parents. Good. As she left her keys on the narrow cabinet by the wall, she read a note left on it: _the last one coming home closes the door_. A better look at the countertop and she spotted her brother's Mr Raccoon keychain laying on it.

_Dammit_. It was so damn late that even Chris had returned home before her!

She locked the door and, as usual, left the keys into the lock, trying to make absolutely no sound. She even pulled out her shoes lest she'd wake someone up and get that reproach she had so luckily eluded.

She was so exhausted she simply slid out of her clothes, lazily wore her pyjamas and climbed on bed, yawning loudly.

That had been an intense day, full of emotions and… tiring yet _pleasant_ activities. With her eyes dozing off, she sent a hand to turn off the flamingo lamp. In the very moment the pink light went down, a bright light illuminated her whole bedroom, casting grey shadows all over the wall for few seconds.

Claire didn't even bother to look who had had the inconsiderate idea to text her that late at night and simply turned away from her nightstand to have a good, deserved sleep.

As her phone undauntedly continued to light up every two fucking seconds she angrily grabbed it, determined to bark her _fuck-off-and-die_ at whoever was importuning her.

_Becky if it's you… you're a dead girl._

Squinting her eyes for the bothering brightness, she mentally awed in surprise as she read Chris' name on the notifications.

Chris: _Hey baby_

Chris:_ About that thing you said_

Chris: _I want you._

Chris: _like… NOW._

**Claire**: _honey… I'm pooped! Sorry (cry face)_

Chris: _We'll do it fast! Just a screw! You won't even notice. I promise (smile)_

**Claire**: _I utterly doubt it! (laughter)_

Chris: _please I'm already so hard! Wouldn't you get me some blue balls, would you?_

**Claire**: _why don't you make up the old way? A hand, a tissue and lots of fantasy? A nice porn will do, trust me!_

Chris: _but I want YOU under my eyes, not a whatever fucking porn star!_

**Claire**: _then you can use those pics you took of "me" in the closet! (smirk)_

Chris' cheeks blazed up in an embarrassed blush. He swallowed hard at her - apparently so innocent - admission.

The night that their father told them the machinery was ready and that the switch back was just few days away, Chris had had the unashamed idea to immortalise her nude gracefulness as he wasn't ready to let go of such comfortable, secret, attainable source of pure heterosexual relief. Hence, that night's usual masturbation had been seasoned with a profuse dose of flashes and zooms. The first shoot and he felt uncomfortable. For some reason, groping at her body every single night felt still more legit than stealing her image to use it… for personal purposes. He felt he had taken something of her that was utterly forbidden, unfair and really such a petty thing to do to a sister. His own _Talking Cricket_ was bellowing him to erase that nefarious photo, take his hands off that body and cover her nudities. But, honestly, has the Cricket ever been listened to?

_It's just for fun._

Oh, yeah, Chris… "_for fun_" … of course! You're just another narcissistic girl posing before a mirror to boost her own confidence! You're just taking a souvenir, a postcard of your vacation days! Please, go on and put yourself at ease as if it's not your sister vagina and her forefinger the ones in that close-up!

_Nobody will ever know about it! It's ok! Claire will never know!_

At the tenth pic he was both aroused and feeling dirty like a mischievous thief, a criminal. A smooth one as he deftly stored the photos into a folder on his phone's cloud storage and protected them with a password – it seemed to ease his conscience a little. It'd have remained a secret between him, the closet and his phone. Truth be told, he hadn't watched them for days, not until the missing of her had become so oppressive that his thumb acted almost on its own will when it scrolled through them on his first loneliness crisis back on Wednesday evening.

Apparently though, using his birthday as passcode hadn't turned out being a smart idea. That nosy girl of his sister must've flushed them out during school time, when their phones changed owner and dived back into their usual pockets.

_How long has she been knowing it?_

When the initial embarrassment for having his perversion been caught began to wear off, Chris found himself surprisingly wondering about how Claire had reacted to those images of her… naked, naughty and explicitly hot. Oh, and wet.

Chris: _so… you saw them…_

**Claire**: _Yup. _

**Claire**:_ You're such a creative guy and I'm such a photogenic girl! (smirk)_

**Claire**: _You definitely know how to do justice to a cunt!_

Chris: _Do you want me to erase them?_

**Claire**: _No… you can keep'em. So you can use them when I'm pooped and you're horny… LIKE NOW._

Chris: _No way! Those pics should be for emergencies u.u_

Chris: _this is no emergency. You're home, you're next door, you're awake and I'm fucking hard!_

**Claire**: _are you?_

As a reply, he sent her a pic of... his stretched boxers that spoke for itself and a close-up selfie of his face, with his eyes squinted for the flash and the little square package of a condom caught between his lips.

Claire bit her lip at such saucy, daring pictures. If she wasn't that tired she'd have already slipped out of her clothes and dashed to Man's Cave to get some of him.

**Claire**: _you should send me these pics more often_

Chris: _Oh you should see me live._

Maybe the blueish light of the screen had somehow awakened her brain or maybe the sight of his face had awakened other things in her, anyway Claire wasn't feeling that _sleepy_ anymore.

**Claire**: _well then... I'll be waiting for you with open legs (heart)_

Chris went immediately offline and Claire barely had the time to turn the flamingo lamp on again, that she saw him roll into Girly Room, pivot on his feet and, with a hand grabbing the doorknob and the other carefully pressed on the door, he cautiously and incredibly slowly closed it right before rushing to the bed and slide underneath the big padded blanket. She was actually waiting with her legs spread open thus he quite automatically nestled between them.

With his fists firmly planted on the pillow he leveraged himself over her, the condom still caught in his lips, the aluminium layer glimmering in the rosy light.

Smirking, she pinched the condom and drew it away from him, taking it in her hand, before raising up and imprint a fiery kiss on his still parted lips.

Lips that didn't leave hers for a single moment as she reclined back on the mattress. In spite of the late hour - so late it had been already Sunday for a while now - every grain of sleep had forsaken their weary bodies.

Chris lowered on her, slowly, savouring the rising contact with her sultry frame. He didn't mind the thick fleece pyjamas hiding her shape from his eyes, as long as he could feel her under his touch. The concreteness of her was way better than any bunch of pixels on a screen, no matter how explicit. He framed her head in his forearms and kissed her with devotion, his tongue massaging her hot mouth.

The same hand that held the condom between two fingers, mildly fondled his cheek, an appreciative caress for his considerate delicacy. She crossed her wrists upon his neck whilst their heads danced a tango of passion.

Even though he was excitedly desirous to mate with her for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, he was aware of her lassitude and he'd have never induced her to do anything she wasn't feeling like. If she settled for just smooching under the blankets, then he'd have settled for it as well.

But his kisses would've always pushed Claire to the most tempestuous arousals and soon her hands, her silent moans, her shivering thighs began asking for more.

Exactly the kind of request Chris was waiting for.

Shifting all his weight on one arm, he slid a hand over her abdomen, his stroking palm left behind a quiver of pure pleasure that rippled her skin and swelled her nipples. Not even the thickest fleece could mitigate the ecstasy of his touch. Claire couldn't curb a gasp when she felt his fingertips press and trace little circles on her clitoris. This was Chris: capable of the softest pecks under her jawline whilst ravaging her with strong, virile, decisive strokes under her panties. She wondered if he was like that with other girls too or if he touched that way only her. One thing for sure, he must've done lots of experience as he was so damn skilled. Every move effective, every touch precise and resolute. Sherry and all the girls after her had been so lucky! Now it was Claire's turn for a crazy ride on him. She inwardly sneered at herself for having lost so much time without knowing how much of a divine fucker her brother was.

Claire turned her head, offering her neck even more to his lavish kisses, blue eyes shutting in the throes of the sinful pleasures his yearning fingers summoned in her.

Once he got rid of the unwieldy presence of the pyjamas bottom and her panties - foretasting the pleasure of penetrating her by introducing all his haughty virility inside her inners - he kneaded the meaty lips of her entrance with two fingers and, with a slow movement he glided them inside, sinking them into her humid womanhood. Yes, manicure was definitely a blessing.

The strong moan it ripped off her was brusquely suffocated by his lips who swooped on hers to shut her up.

"Hush, baby." he susurrated without really separating their mouths.

"It's too good." She mewled, again reclining her head back while deepening the contact with his hand by thrusting her hips upwards.

"I know baby" he whispered.

He perfectly knew. He remembered too well the pleasure that had seemed to flow like liquid gold through his veins when, weeks before, fake Chris had done the same to him inside Carlos' bathtub. He knew the kind of fulfilment his thick fingers were able to procure with an adequate friction of her inner walls. Chris would've surely finger fucked her properly hadn't she moaned that loud at the slightest move of him inside her.

"Be quieter!"

"I'm trying to!" she whined, tightly grasping his shoulder, as her other hand reached down to grab his member, fondling it sweetly. "But it's not easy with you!"

Chris smirked maliciously at her shivering compliment and resumed his doing down on her, while giving little, involuntary pushes with his hips, pressing his full erection against her hand and the thigh he was straddling. The more she stroked him, the more his thrusts would get mightier and deep, their breaths growing heavier and heavier.

But none of them felt safe.

Maybe it was the fear to be caught, maybe the awareness of doing something absolutely transgressive and criminal, surely it was the certainty that the walls of their rooms had the sound insulation of an egg shell but, especially for Chris, each of Claire's moans – no matter how they struggled to muffle them – and, even worse, the lightest clanging of the mattress' springs – stressed under their weight – seemed to resonate like bombs in the solemn quietude of the night. He had slept in that bed for a month yet he was only then noticing how damn noisy it was. Now that the only thing they needed was the complicity of silence.

Even if Claire was by then so much over-aroused that she had almost completely lost her inhibitions and recklessly kept thrusting her hips upwards against his hand, Chris instead tried to remain more vigilant and, no matter how much he kept an ear out, he couldn't get to relax enough to really make love to her. Even if he managed to keep her from screaming out her climax, that damned bed would still be a pain in the ass.

"Fuck" he grumbled at some point when a spring decided to squeak loudly after a little too ponderous push.

"Yeah, fuck me." Claire urged, mewling like a cat in heat.

"No." Chris susurrated, gliding his fingers out of her snug hole, gaining a disapproving lament. "We can't do it here. They could hear us."

"What do you suggest we do?" Claire asked, the sudden interruption of his teasing giving her a little of lucidity.

Chris went pensive a little and, lastly, proposed "We can go downstairs."

"You mean in the living room?"

"No that would be worse! I mean down in the basement." he whispered "if we lock inside the bathroom, we might get off a little more freely."

"Do you think they can't hear us from down there?"

"I think so." He replied and, alternating words with wet, tender kisses, he explained. "The bathroom has concrete ceiling and the bedrooms are two floors upstairs… we couldn't scream like yesterday as well but…"

"Mmmh… we better go then." Claire hummed, nipping at his lower lip "now it's _me_ who wants it… _like_ _now_."

Chris climbed off bed and peered through the door to check if their parents were, for whatever reason, rambling about. Not that they'd have thought there was anything wrong with their firstborn exiting his sister's room, but his incredible, most obvious erection would've been nearly impossible to justify.

"All clear!" he reported, gesturing her to get up and follow him as he hadn't heard her climb out of bed. She was sitting upright, dazed by the sight of the bulge between his thighs. He looked down on himself, on what he knew had caught all of her attention. The largeness of his boxers left him enough room to just hang, hard and horizontal, pointing towards the dark hallway behind the door like a hound "Claire. Let's go." he spelled.

Only then Claire seemed to shake from the utter daydream she had fallen into.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm coming!" she replied, biting her lips as she got closer.

If there was anything about her that he was discovering and left him breathless was her piquant, spontaneous, a bit pervert and surely cocky way to not restrain at all her ardent craving for him. His body had a devastating effect on her and she did absolutely nothing to hide it. He'd have never imagined that such a composed and fine girl like his sister would be so voluptuary, blatant and cheeky under the sheets. "He's waiting only for you, you know?" he simpered as he welcomed her in his arms, his mouth, his groin again.

"Claire…" he murmured, pulling away from her lips.

"Mh?"

"If we go downstairs… you better put your panties on." he amusedly chuckled.

* * *

Trying to be the most careful and without turning on a single light, they descended down the stairs and then in the dark of their living room, brightened only by a bit of moonlight that a merciful cloud had revealed. They moved cautiously, like barefoot burglars in the night, holding hands like the sweet lovers they were. Chris leading, Claire following right behind, her mind stuck on his big, hard member waiting only for her. She pictured it bobbing up and down with each step like a drumstick ready to bang. Bang her.

Once on top of the basement staircase, Chris dared to turn on some of the light points on the ceiling, just to light up the pitch black engulfing the steep stairs before them.

The basement was pretty cold that late at night when the heaters had been turned off for a while, but the temperature didn't bother them at all as they knew that room would soon get burning hot.

"C'mon" Chris said, entering in the small bathroom "We can do it in the bathtub, like at Carlos'… but better." He suggested, turning to grab her in his usual boisterous but gentle manner and widened his eyes as… he didn't see her where he expected her to be - beside him - but far in the bottom of the big room, seated on the weight-lifting bench, staring at him with an arch smirk, waving to come closer with her hooked forefinger.

"Claire! Wouldn't you do it here, would you?" Chris exclaimed, pacing towards her.

"Why not?" she taunted.

"Because this fucking room has no fucking doors!" he pointed out, matter-of-factly, his palms underlining his statement.

"C'mon, who would ever come down here?" she sassed, a hand stroking him through the stretched cotton. "Elders sleep… young fuck." her hand gliding beneath the cloth to uncover his bouncing dick and stroke him faster.

Chris licked his lips and sighed, certain that another one of her impudent touches and he'd have lost even the last shred of prudence he had left. "In the bathroom… we can… get off… better." He uttered, slightly tilting his head back with a long sigh.

Claire stood up, pulling her shirt off and letting it carelessly fall on the ground with a theatrical move, without breaking eye contact with him, standing up only in her skimpy underwear. By then Claire had figured out which mechanism clicked in her brother's head before her body, and she knew how to make it click at her own will.

"It's since last afternoon that I imagine you taking me here." she murmured, pulling off her bra and launching it in the same trajectory as her shirt. "Take me here, Chris." she mewled, hooking her fingers around the subtle lace wire of her thong to pull it down, but Chris' hands were faster and stopped hers. He looked down on her, silent and calm as the good, morigerous, tamed lion he had apparently become.

Chris was aware of how his sister was leading him to do whatever she wanted, no matter how perilous it might be. She wanted him to take her on that bench? He'd have taken her there. Notwithstanding utterly dominated by his penis, Chris would've never been a docile puppy though. He rose his gaze, slowly and solemnly, it was dark and his eyes gleamed of a pitiless flame.

"I'll take care of this." he roared.

"Don't rip it though" she giggled, glad to see that her blandishments were working out.

An unforgiving rage flashed in his eyes and, for a moment, a shock of adrenaline rushed through Claire's body until it fibrillated her clitoris. She realized that night's fuck would've been much different from the tender, loving shag of the previous morning, as with an offhanded move he ripped the second thong. She retorted with a pointed look but loved watching him kneel and go down on her.

This time it was his lips to take care of her tender flesh, alternating his usual taps with delicate, innocuous bites. If that was a way to apologise for his outrage at her undergarments then she loved it. She loved his head between her legs, his tongue between her fleshy lips, his hand working fast on his dick.

But that moment of oral consideration didn't last long and the lion in him took over anew. He firmly grabbed her and eased her on the bench, knelt face towards the stairs and the bathroom. He undressed and positioned behind her, standing up with his open legs straddling both the seat and her feet.

"If you scream, we're screwed." he murmured against her ear, his hands stroking her belly, not sure if his warning would've been effective.

"I won't. I promise." she breathed out, reclining her head back and onto his shoulder. She fondled his cheek and pulled him in her kiss.

No matter how the lion would strive to assert its supremacy but Chris, the tender pup he was, would always melt and tumble down on her lips. Her kisses were something more than any all-nude, more than whatever striptease, more than any enticing sigh. Claire's kisses were life. They were truth. They were pure like fresh spring water, able to give life and take it away at the same. They were his death sentence.

No, Chris wasn't her puppy - not that Claire wanted him like that - but the blissful warmness he felt anytime their lips touched sealed his slavery to her. In the very moment their lips had touched for the first time ever, just a bunch of hours before, Chris was doomed to fall for her. He'd never be the same. Not the same guy, nor the same brother.

As she broke the kiss to breathe, a lost Chris mouthed a silent and desperate _I love you_ against her lips. Unsaid words that faded unseen into the yellowish darkness.

His touch so firm and arrogant until that moment, had softened to an amatory, mild embrace. His muscled arms crossed on her chest and drew her to him.

"Sorry. I'll buy you new ones." he muttered.

"No worries. I got plenty of that." Claire giggled. "A whole drawer!"

"Kiss me again, baby." he said, caressing her nape.

He could've spent the rest of the night in that position with her in his arms, her nude back against his abdomen, her breasts under his palms, enfolding her like a blanket to keep her warm and lively like the wildfire she was. And he'd have done it, hadn't she reminded him they were down there for much more animated purposes by grasping his member and stroking it to harden it even more. Yeah, it was about time for some action!

"Give it to me." She uttered. "Put it in my pussy!"

"Where's the condom?" he asked, drawn back from his enamoured thoughts.

"Shit!" she gasped. "I must have left it on the pillow!"

As none of them wanted to get dressed to go back into Girly Room to pick up the missing gears and, as long as her doing down on him emptied his brain to fill his penis, Chris' lucidity was long gone. "I'll pull out, baby."_ We'll save it for the next time._

So it was - reminding her to be quiet - that they began making love. Claire on her knees, her shoulders nestling on the seat, Chris standing up and banging her from behind, smirking in approval at her sweet, muffled hums of pleasure. Everything on that bench was risky, of course, but it only spiced it up.

That was their first complete contact, skin against skin, and to them it was like doing it for the first time once again. Even if both were soon in the throes of their arousals, Chris kept an eye on the staircase, fearing the sudden apparition of their parents even though, he had to admit it, Claire had had a wonderful idea: the height and angle in which he was fucking her were simply perfect and comfortable. His swinging back and forth was smooth and flawless, even if every now and then he'd stop moving to enjoy her eagerness push against his hips in need.

Claire, instead, kept touching herself whilst watching her brother dark reflection in the wall-wide huge mirror, the warm light coming from the bathroom outlining all his sculpted abs out of the darkness, his dick going in and out of her at ever increasing pace. She pictured herself still inside that body and penetrating the dainty girl with the hair the colour of autumn. That would've been something fun.

She curbed a jolt of pleasure as Chris absently slapped her butt-cheek, immediately regretting it as it rumbled like a thunder and echoed on the walls. _No fucking slaps, you dumbass. _The stairs were still desert, thankfully. Despite all his warnings, when their climaxes were just few thrusts away, both went way louder than quiet hums. As Claire's body stopped trembling for her orgasm, Chris grunted loudly as he pulled out of her to spill all his semen over her back smashing his butt on the barbell cool steel. Useless was gritting his teeth. It was loud.

He collapsed over her back and laid down, his sweat mixing up with his sperm. His exhausted arm slid under her belly and hugged her.

"That was loud!" she giggled.

"It's your fault, honey. I told you I can't resist you." His growling laugh stirring her hair. "Did you like it?"

"What do you think?" she laughed, relishing in the warmth of his body stretched over hers.

"I think you're the best girl I've ever laid."

"And you're the best man I've ever had." she simpered. "I think Imma let you fuck me again."

"Sure as hell you are."

"You wore me out. I swear, I'm dozing off right here." she mewled "Will my boy take me to my room bride-style?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

**Little confession: from this chapter on, every single thing that happens is different from the original draft (or script) I did. Originally this was meant to be closer to the end of ACT 2. But ACT 3 was too... _plain_ in my opinion. I was too good and mild towards my characters.**

**So I re-imagined it, adding all the drama I liked to. Unfortunately, this means that my weekly updates are long gone as I'll have to write it from zero. But don't worry! I'll serve you all at least one chapter per month (or maybe shorter chapters but more often - let me know your preferences).**

**Relatively good news (depending on your affection to the story, One Month In Your Shoes is far from being close to an end. **

**They're still too sane.**

**Thank you all my beloved readers, from all over the world, may my silly fantasy bring a little amusement into your lives and coffee breaks (or rides home)! **

**Love,**

**a Fangirl**


	18. Rocket Queen

**Hey there, it's the 29th of October – at least in this AU – and this chapter embraces the whole morning and afternoon of their first Monday as lovers.**

**Remember the Roller Coaster? I love roller coasters. Here is to you another one. Milder this time though.**

**It's a very long one, so take your time, make yourself comfortable and enjoy the ride.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 17 - ROCKET QUEEN**

* * *

**Part 1 - Interrogation**

"You seeing it? He's doing it again!" Ashley exclaimed in excitement.

"You sure? Can you see him well?" Sheva wondered mirroring the same enthusiasm.

"Yes! I totally see him!" Ashley confirmed. "He's looking straight at our table!"

It was Monday and the girls had plenty to talk about: the most up to the minute gossips about the raging Wong-Birkin love affair – admittedly Ada had moved to Annette's apartment just to end up slamming her door and run away with travel bags and all only a week later, reportedly, chased by a hysterical blonde –, or the school-wide shock provoked by Wesker being spotted _without_ sunglasses, predictable couple break-ups, cheating guys, bad hairstyle choices and, most importantly, plan what to do on the upcoming Halloween.

_But_ when Chris Redfield was spotted peeping at their table for the umpteenth time in a row, everything else simply lost any importance.

"I say he is looking at me." Ashley declared, palming her own chest in a haughty manner.

"Pfffft! Please!" Rebecca scoffed, almost choking on her food "if he is looking at someone, then it must be Jill!"

"Becky, dear. Only because _she_ has a crush on Chris it doesn't mean _he_ _must_ like her back!" Ashley pointed out, gaining a harsh look from the latter.

"Isn't it the same for you too, then?" Moira blatantly riposted, winking in complicity at Jill.

Ashley's forefinger dashed upwards ready to cast an offhanded retort, but that scornful avant-garde was left alone as the girl's tongue simply defected, for she couldn't muster anything good to fire back.

"Girls! What's all the fuss about?" Claire intervened as she heard her brother's name being spelled.

"Are you deaf? Your brother has put his sights on someone in this table! We already talked about that! Remember?"

_Shit_.

Claire bit her tongue.

_It must have happened while Chris was me. _

"Yeah I remember but... I don't think he's doing what you think."

"Yeah... Yeah... Claire. You already told us the _he's-doing-it-for-his-friend _bullshit!" Sheva said mocking her voice "But as Carlos told me -"

"Oh, so you let him use his tongue to speak sometimes?" Rebecca sassily joked, well informed about how passionately Sheva would continuously be necking with her boyfriends. "That's impressive!"

Sheva clicked her tongue and continued "_As Carlos told me…_ Kevin is currently dating a girl down in Arklay City, Piers as far as he knows is gay, Leon has a crush on Claire and, however, he's the type of guy that takes what he wants by himself. And, obviously, Carlos is mine. _So_ it's not them. _So_, it must be Chris and only him. _So_ Ashley might be right."

Claire's eyes darted to Rebecca.

Leon had been Rebecca's crush for years – since that one time she had literally _crushed_ onto him during an awkward P.E. shared lesson. The shocking revelation that Sheva had just bleated out straight at her face had struck her like gunfire. The brunette tried to dissimulate her keen hurt but a rising blush betrayed her inner feelings. Claire could only imagine the kind of sorrow that pervaded her friend in that very moment.

_Poor angel_.

Claire felt she had to make up for Sheva's carelessness and comfort her friend. But how? Officially, she had no links to anyone in her brother's gang, whereas Carlos was... he was one the bros! If there were anything to know, Carlos was a too much reliable source to be refuted! Sheva had got it straight from the horse's mouth! No, Claire couldn't totally deny the statement as she wished. She could only sugar the pill.

"So, so, so… bla, bla, bla!" Claire mocked. "You're damn wrong, Sheva. Chris told me Leon hasn't a crush on me! He used to… but... but… no more!"

Weak. Claire glanced at Rebecca many times while speaking but the girl remained silent and preferred looking down at her plate, fiddling with the leftovers, for she had abruptly lost any appetite.

"Pfft!" Ashley scornfully laughed. "As if Leon would be so stupid to confess to Chris his crush on you!"

Claire glared a pissed look at the blonde and badly kicked her ankle under the tabletop. _Don't make things worse, Ash!_

Ironically though, Ashley couldn't know that Leon – unawares – _did_ confess his crush to Chris but in a very... _peculiar_ and... direct way!

"Anyway, that doesn't matter." Sheva was irremovable. "As I said, Leon would peep by himself."

"Oh c'mon, girls!" Claire exclaimed, feeling more and more backed to a corner. She sought desperately for some back-up at least from Jill or Moira, but uselessly. Moira couldn't care less about anything concerning boys and Jill, well, she was too busy in denying herself how she longed for the glancing boy to pay any attention. "Are we still in the Nineteenth century? Guys don't do such things anymore! If they're interested in someone they'd text not steal looks!"

"Why don't you look yourself, my ginger _Damsel_?"

Claire, grimaced at that stupid nickname and, slanting on her seat, she looked in the direction of the guys' table. Chris was talking to Piers – about something amusing for sure according to his focused gaze. She'd soon have chirped her victorious "I told you so" hadn't he glanced at her with such a sudden shift of his gorgeous eyes that she almost gasped. In the very moment their looks met he widely beamed one of his usual seductive smiles and winked suggestively with his thick eyebrows, as if she had already been in his thoughts and he was surprised to catch her staring back.

_Dammit_. The girls were right. _They_ had told her so!

For three whole school weeks she had been doing quite the same. Repeated glances (if not real prolonged stares), loaded with the intensity of Chris's eyes and delivered with the precision of a Swiss clock. Only exception: her looks had been anything but salacious. Maybe the girls had been too focused in arguing about _who_ fake Chris was staring at to notice how damn broken and scared and nervous the fake boy looked back then.

_Dammit squared_! The consequences of that fucking body swap were far from being over!

"So, Claire... You know what to do!" Ashley said, the satisfaction of being right feeding up her ego.

"What you mean?"

"You have to discover who he's interested in! That's quite obvious." Ashley pointed out.

"What?!" Claire squeaked. "You can forget it!"

"Oh come on!... what's the use of being friend with the hottest guy's sister then?" Ashley cynically questioned.

"I love you too, blondie." Claire jibed, eyes squinted in scorn, sticking her tongue out at the girl's cheesy smirk.

"OH MY GOD!" Ashley gushed, as a sudden realization lighted up in her head. To prevent the unfortunate occurrence that a rarest logic thought would escape her skull, she even covered her open mouth with a hand. "Oh God... You already know!" an accusing finger pointing straight between the ginger head eyes.

"No, I don't!" Claire remonstrated.

"Yes you do. It's me right?"

Claire was too annoyed by her friend's arrogance and coldly answered "No, it's not you."

Ashley was disappointed, her pride hurt but got to shrug in disdain "His loss."

"So... uhm… if you say so..." the feeble voice of Rebecca mumbled, soon gaining the attention of the whole table. "If you say that it's _not_ Ashley... it means that _someone_ _must be_!" She seemed to have recovered from the strike and now she was back to her typical investigative manners.

"Well... uh..." Claire faltered.

She wanted to _cut off_ her own tongue now and swallow it. The more she tried to avoid answering the more her friends would make their theories.

"Ok. Let's reason a bit." _Rebeck Holmes_ cleared her throat and shifted on her seat ready to solve the case. She was back and determined to support Jill's cause. Using her fork as a teacher's wand, she began pointing at every girl. "Sheva is taken. Moira is lesbian. Claire is sister. Ashley is... not. It remains only Jill and me. Now, I think that my... _hopeless_ crush on Leon is quite evident for _anybody_" and she didn't spare a subliminal circular glare. "Chris included. So he knows I'm out of the market. And by the way, I've been to your house a billion times, Claire, and he never showed any sign of interest. So if two plus two is four..."

Everybody's eyes shifted on Jill, who found herself encircled by a display of a pretty wide selection of facial expressions: there was the expectant one, the curious, the poisonous, the amused, the satisfied. Hers was plain bored.

"Stop talking shit, Beck!" an unimpressed Jill said ignoring the pregnant looks on her and kept picking at her food.

"It makes sense, sweetie!" Rebecca insisted, exaggerating a blink.

Claire only wanted to tell it wasn't Jill and put an end to that absolutely unfounded talk, but Becky's reasoning was too good to be easily overcome. If she said it was not even Jill, everyone would have either thought she was making fun of them or that it was Rebecca. Both options were to avoid.

Her silence was taken like a wrongful assent.

"_Jill?!"_ Ashley squawked in shock. It took her few blinks to recover from the upset. "Chris with… Jill?! What an awkward couple would that ever be?"

"Yeah Chris with Jill!" Jill snapped, slamming the fork on the plate. She had enough of that shit and simply lost her cool – such an unusual thing for her. "_That awkward_ couple would be a million times better than you with whoever guy! Stop your irritating shit-storming Ash! You're throwing shit at me only 'cause Claire said it's not you!"

"Oh please, Jill. I'm mot insulting you! I'm just saying that..."

"_That_...? That Chris would never be attracted by me?" Jill barked. "You know what? If he'd ever ask me out I would tell him yes a hundred times!" And suddenly realising how too much of her most intimate feelings she had revealed (even to herself), she tried to remedy adding a stuttered "a-at least to p-prove you wrong and make you shut the fuck up!"

The usually quiet Jill Valentine would spare no one when pissed off. This was one of those rare times when the brunette would harshly spit fire like a furious dragon and… _freeze_ the atmosphere all around the table. A sullen silence fell over them.

Claire tried to soothe the unease saying that whoever Chris may be interested in it wasn't actually any of their business. If Chris would start dating anyone he would surely ask the girl out without stupid "peeping".

She acted a little offended, just to make her friends feel enough guilty to stop fighting. And it kinda worked as she even got Ashley to say a timid_ sorry_! Inwardly, Claire was really proud of herself: she had become pretty good at keeping up appearances by telling little, innocuous... lies and innocent half-truths.

As soon as she had pacified the table though, no one less than Chris himself approached and asked his sister to follow him. Rolling her eyes at her bad luck – aware of the fact that his request would cause a tempest of questions when she'd be back – Claire swayed her hips behind him to the cafeteria door.

"What's up Chris?" She tiredly sighed.

He pulled her a little closer and talked low. "Do you like _passion fruit?"_

_What the hell of a silly question is that?_

"What?... passion fruit? I... don't know... I don't think I ever tried it. What is it? A tropical apple or something?" She shrugged, looking puzzled. "Why are you asking?"

He smiled and leaning down he whispered in her ear "Piers just talked me about a new type of condoms he tried and I was wondering if you'd like to try it as well..."

Despite enjoying his hot breath on her skin, she turned her head and looked quite astonished into his eyes "Chris! Are yo-"

"Hush baby! Speak low."

"Are you really asking me for sex in the middle of the school?" She whispered.

"Yep." He cockily smirked. "That's all I can do here though."

In fact, his whole body moved around her differently than the caring, rubbing, shivering bulk of muscles she had been seeing dance around herself lately, in the hottest moments of the last weekend. And it was plain evident to her that he was struggling to maintain a proper self-control.

She mirrored his same smirk and, tongue in cheek, she replied "You know you don't have to ask!"

"Babe, I'm a gentleman." He smiled.

"A gentleman who screwed me like there's no tomorrow." She susurrated.

"Well, you didn't seem to complain back then..."

"Who's complaining?" she laughed under her breath. "Man, Chris! You gave me the best sex of my life!"

There were no words for him to express how keenly he wanted to kiss her in that very moment. The mentioned intensity of his stare spoke for itself. Her beauty had this power to leave him speechless. Even if some very specific words were storming in his mind. But a speechless man can declare neither war nor love.

"So, are you gonna fuck me after school?" she cheekily asked, tapping on his chest. A rising heat from the pit of her belly gave her thrills at the mere thought of his hands over her.

"You don't even have to ask!"

Chris loved when she acted that racy. No matter how many people would be around. That surprisingly outspoken side of her was disclosing to him since their romantic fiction had become their reality. It was something he wasn't ever supposed to know – let alone taste on his skin. The sister he used to know had blossomed under his eyes into a _femme fatale_ he had never met before, nor even had guessed would dwell into his lovely baby sister before their lives got twisted by destiny.

"I know. Just remember there's a little pussy waiting for you down here."

"Ffffffuck, Claire! You want me to get a hard-on right here?" he excitedly hissed at her tease.

* * *

When walking to their next class, Claire prodded at Rebecca's arm and stopped her, leaning with her beside the wall.

"Hey, Becky... I'm so sorry about what happened before..." she softly spoke.

"Don't worry Claire. It's fine."

"I know you're hurt... Sheva's been a bitch. She knows you have a crush on Leon. She shouldn't have said that."

"Actually what hurt me the most was that you knew about it but never told me." The girl muttered.

Claire saddened terribly. An arrow shoot straight in her throat would've been less painful than those words. She felt guilty. To make things even worse, she couldn't comfort her friend as she wished because none of the things occurred in those tormented last few weeks could be revealed.

"I didn't tell you because I... I thought it was the best thing to do." Claire defencelessly avowed.

"We're best friends, Claire. We shouldn't have secrets. Being lost for a guy who's lost for someone else isn't nice. I know you wanted to protect me but... I wish you told me."

Tell her what? Tell her about the stolen kiss on the veranda she had never received? Or about the taste of lips she had never touched? How could she tell her that it had been _fake_ Claire to break the heart of her best friend's crush? That story might have saved their friendship, but what about Rebecca's heart? After all, Leon was convinced he had kissed (or tried to kiss) Claire!

Even though... Even though he had said to Chris that he was aware that "_Claire doesn't even consider me"._ That meant he had set his mind (and heart) at rest once and for all, right? Right? There was still hope for Becky!

"I'm sorry. I knew about his crush… a couple of weeks ago from Chris, that's true. But it belongs to the past, now. It has been a... uh... a phase. It's already over now! Leon would never make a move on me! Chris assured me!"

"Is that supposed to sound cheering?" Rebecca lightly sneered.

Claire failed to muster any reply. _Yeah?_

"The fact that he fears Chris's reaction doesn't mean his crush is over." Rebecca acutely observed.

* * *

**Part 2 – Exotic, erotic, idiotic**

"Yeah, like that, baby." Chris heavily sighed, tilting his head back and relaxing his neck on the headrest. "Around the tip, just like that..." The wet, repetitive sound her mouth did was music to his ears and libido.

It was afternoon, about an hour to sunset, and the Redfield siblings had just parked Chris's car behind an old abandoned building by the farthest outskirts of the city. It was a rectangular grey edifice that once had been a refinery, then a confectionery factory and now, after many bankruptcies and ownership changes, was a decadent haunt for many couples of all ages looking for some intimacy out of home (let it be teen sweethearts or cheating married adults).

In such an unusual hour for having a tumble in the hay, their car was the only one around there, accurately hidden behind prickly bushes wildly grown between the holes in the concrete.

"Are you sure nobody can see us here?" Claire had asked as he had driven into the discarded industrial area.

"Trust me. It's safe." He had replied whilst driving through the run-down edifices, seeking a well secluded place for them.

"Have you already brought someone here?" she maliciously asked, not hiding her genuine curiosity.

Chris had coyly grinned and, with a shrug and a quirked eyebrow, he had said "I may have brought someone here before. What 'bout you? First time here right?"

She eagerly nodded, humming her yes.

Good. Chris wouldn't have easily swallowed the idea that somebody had brought her to such a solitary place to fuck her brains out away from prying eyes and ears. Truly hypocrite reasoning from someone who had done the same thing to way more than one girl.

But he was a good guy. A _gentleman_. The others might have been all potential rapists and certainly all a bunch of filthy sexual maniacs waiting only for a little sparrow to fall in their claws. But he was no monster. He'd have treated her with all regards. He'd have loved her.

"Brad once brought me in the mountainside, up in Raccoon Forest…" Claire began recounting, resting an elbow on the windowpane to fiddle with her ponytail "He said it was safe too but… by a chance a ranger didn't catch us!"

Besides her amused giggle for the memories of her misadventures with her ex, she heard Chris's teeth grit heavily and a glance at his jaw confirmed her that he hadn't liked that shortest story of her.

"C'mon don't be jealous!" she laughed, playfully smacking his arm.

"You know I hate that motherfucker!" he grumbled, grim and bothered.

"You mean _sister_fucker!" Claire cackled, getting an unforgiven glare from her brother.

"Listen, I already have to tolerate he has gotten his hands on you, I don't want to know the details!"

"Details?! I'd have really few then as the ranger came pretty soon!" she conveyed. "Brad hadn't even the time to unhook my bra!"

"That asswipe doesn't even know what's below a bra let alone how to unclip it!" Chris scoffed.

Second smack. That wholly failed to take that mean grin away from his face. On that afternoon, Chris would have had way more than what that cosmic moron had tried to take from his sister months before on a similar situation.

"That asswipe knows how to bang other guys' sisters." Claire retorted, aware that it'd have provoked him even more. It was way too fun seeing Chris… being the usual super-jealous brother, not to take advantage of the chance to fuck with his patience.

"Remind me to bang his, then." he replied, taking the blow in his stride in dignity.

Claire didn't even bat an eye at his answer, she rather giggled even more amusedly, whereas he had grown peeved.

He despised her being so superficial at times. Dammit, they were there to _make love_, together, alone and she was talking about her ex even if only to joke and tease him! He may even be a jealous brother, but in that car he was a lover. Her lover. And he was more jealous than ever. He despised being the only one to be so involved in what they were going to do. He felt _he_ was the asswipe. Even more than Vickers.

She was light, delicate, spontaneous and humorous but she really didn't seem to realize that, even if they hid for a refreshing shag at the end of a most boring school Monday, what they did was important and meaningful.

It was, at least for him.

After having deftly parked the car, Chris killed the engine and unfastened his safety belt but he made absolutely no moves towards her. He waited. He waited for Claire to take the initiative, to seek him, to show him she longed for him and she was as much involved as him.

She waited too, for few seconds, but when it was clear that Chris would not move, the doubt she had pushed it too much began blooming in her.

"Hey, sorry…" she said softly, smiling mildly and slanted to rake her fingers through his short strands. "I just wanted to tease you a little bit… you know you turn me on as fuck when you act jealous!"

"You know I hate thinking of you with someone else." Chris murmured. "It's not nice hearing you talk about these things…"

Claire raised a quick-witted eyebrow. "'Cause bringing me to the same place where you fucked the other girls is nice, isn't it?"

_Touché_. Square in the chest. She was damn right. It was definitely not romantic. Chris looked around at the frowzy desolation that surrounded them: scraped walls, rust dripped down the girders, weed all over and scattered rattletraps. Light years away from the kind of location she deserved. It all was so unworthy of her beauty! That was a place for whores, occasional sex, maybe even for a regular girlfriend or a friendly good lay but not for his princess. She was a rose in a dump and he had taken her there himself.

"Still… it's no big deal to me." she said, making him turn to have his enthralling look anew on her. "To me, being _you and I_ is the big deal."

He smiled. He loved that roguish look she put up anytime she'd begin thinking something thrilling. He could read on her face that she was thinking of him nude and hard. And he loved her acting a bit jealous. Just a microscopic bit, yet it was satisfying.

"Come here, baby." he uttered with rough and warm voice, drawing her to him, to fuse their lips into a most desired kiss.

He pulled a little lever below the seat and shifted it all backwards, making room between himself and the steering wheel.

He hadn't to allude anything. Claire immediately sat astride upon him. If, on one hand, the sensuality imbuing each of her moves – from climbing on him to pulling off her blouse and stand only in her bra – turned him on even more, on the other hand though, he got even more jealous as he saw her so comfortably and confidently move inside the small car cockpit. She must have had more experience of car-fucks than that half a time with Bitch Vickers up in the mountains.

Her gentle leaning closer and adjusting better on his lap, drew him back to reality. She was so small and so sinuous against his portly mass. So white on his black hoodie, bright like a diamond on a darken velvet cushion.

Fuck Vickers and fuck exes.

Now it was the two of them, no one else. All that mattered in the world was on his lips.

* * *

The sun nearly lapped the dark skyline of the nearby Arklay mountains when, without stopping their passionate necking, Chris pulled out of his pocket a colourful and mysterious envelope that he carefully kept hidden in his palm.

Claire slowly broke their kiss and let her hand glide down on his forearm. "What you got here?" she quietly wondered as her eyes fell on that mysterious little thing almost wholly engulfed by his big hand. With her eyes asking for an unneeded permission, as she slid her fingers into his loose fist, she immediately recognized the square shape of a condom. She grabbed it to have a better look at it whilst his hungry lips kept grazing and nipping her face.

"Passion fruit!" she laughed, adjusting the strap of her bra that annoyingly kept falling down. "How the hell did you get to buy one already?"

"Piers handed me one at the cafeteria." he conveyed, grazing with his fingers the sweet, lightly traced cleft of her spine, in the middle of her back.

"So are you guys pushing condoms now?"

"Let's say we push safe love." he winked.

"And Piers is everybody's pusher, right?" she giggled.

"More or less… He takes safety seriously." he joked, growling out a laugh.

"Yeahaha! I remember when he gave Kevin a whole box of them only because he had seen him _texting_ with a chick!"

Chris took the little package back in his hands and licked his lip. "This time I asked him for it."

"Why? You run out of them?" Claire demanded. "The one we forgot the other night is back into your nightstand!

"Yeah, I noticed it." he smiled and, clearing his throat, he timidly continued. "I wanted to take you a… tasty one." he slightly faltered. "You know… I'd like…"

"…A blow job." she whispered with honeyed voice, finishing his coy sentence.

It would be pretty hard to describe the warm tenderness that his shy smile, his hesitation in asking for oral sex, summoned in her soul. There was something in his gaze that ripped a sweet wound in her heart. But she didn't understand what. Actually, she had no clue of the reason _why_ he had purchased a fruity scented condom.

"Chris, you haven't any STDs… we need no protection."

"It's not for protection..." Chris murmured. "I know you don't like sucking dicks so..."

_Claire sucking dicks. Claire. My Claire. Sucking dicks._ He shuddered inside. Awful choice of words.

"Why shouldn't I like it?" she asked, her piquant smile shining under her bouncing eyebrows. "Something named passion fruit shouldn't taste bad… though I'd rather taste _you_, instead!"

Chris looked pretty confused. Something was just wrong in his mind. While being Claire, he had heard Rebecca do lots – tons – of allusions about his sister's sex life, he knew she disliked oral sex! That was for sure! All of the details he had deduced around were the plain evidence! "But you always refused to do blow jobs to that shithead of you-know-who! I thought you hated them!"

"Are we talking about Vickers or… Voldemort?" she joked, laughing cheerfully.

"Voldemort would've been a hundred times better than that dickhead!" Chris huffed, not even amused by her irony. "Unfortunately, I mean Vickers." He eye-rolled.

Claire let out a gleeful laughter and looped her arms around his neck. "So now you like talking about my ex in the middle of a boner? Does it turn you on?"

"I'd rather chop my dick off!"

Both enjoyed a good laugh and a quick peck, just to drag them out of a slight embarrassment, but soon Claire became serious despite talking softly. "I didn't feel like it with Brad… well, there was something in him… I didn't really trust him, you know. I asked him for a condom but he said no." she sighed, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie. She tittered a little and added, badly mocking Brad's annoying voice "He used to say that _getting head with a condom on is like racing with handbrake on: you're lucky if you even get started_."

Despite she spoke and stroked him gently, Chris got pretty pissed off hearing those things. "He refused the condom?!" He roared. "He forced you to do it bareback?!"

"No, Chris, no!" Claire made haste to clarify. "We always used it! Always! He just didn't like it for blow jobs. That's it."

"I don't give a fuck about what he likes! You asked for it! He had to!" suddenly all the past desire to lay his hands on that idiot resurrected (as if it had ever died!). Claire had once told him Brad had never compelled her to do anything... the latest revelations proved quite the opposite. "Has he tried to force you to take him in your mouth? Tell me!" He asked, struggling to suppress his wrath and force his words out of his gritted teeth. He swore that if she said even only the "y" of yes, he'd have gently placed her back onto the passenger seat and streaked for three thousand miles straight only to kill that rapist bare hands.

Claire's smile became even more reassuring and sweeter. "No, never."

Chris intensely stared at her. She was sincere. _His_ Claire would've never hidden him anything, let alone lie to him! Her sincerity had just saved a life. He let out a sound sigh of relief and nodded.

"Thank God." He quietly whispered as a heavy weight fell off his chest.

"I reckon that's why he cheated." She shrugged. "Someone else gave him what I didn't."

Thankfully there was not even the slightest trace of regret in her tone, or it'd have killed him for sure.

"He didn't deserve you." _Nobody is worthy of you... but me._

He leaned onwards and kissed her, sinking his hands in her meaty butt-cheeks. The loyal knight pledging to never let anyone do any harm to his princess. On his lips, under his hands, she was safe, respected, worshipped, protected.

"You'll be my first." she murmured on his lips before her tongue would've been captured by his reverent love.

She felt him deeply breathe in and shift under her, drawing her to himself to tighten their already white-hot kiss and to get their bodies even closer. His big hands were all over her. She knew the idea of being her first was driving him wild and she felt him _grow_ wilder under her.

She let him unclip her bra and throw it away. To Chris that had all the spicy taste of a revengeful blowout as he had already gotten where Vickers had miserably failed. He exulted inwardly.

_Third base will be mine, you fucker!_

"I'll be your first…" Chris muttered whilst she shifted off him and on the passenger seat, kneeling on it to get ready to go down on him. "… And you'll be my fift-heyheyheeeey… KIDDING! I'M KIDDING!" he shouted for the strong nip she did to his nipple as a rebellious protest for the bad taste of his joke.

"That was uncalled for." she growled tight-lipped.

"Sorry." he managed to utter among laughs, "but after all that talking about _Vickermort_ I've got all the right to revenge!" he sneered, massaging his hapless and sore nipple, sure that his best smile would've convinced her to give up and forgive.

It worked. Claire looked at him with that particular gaze of hers, the impassioned one that he knew really well by then, and she unbuttoned his jeans. Her thin fingers moved silently, lightly and slowly, careful to do everything well and didn't let anyone of his to approach.

Soon he felt the cool air bite his burning hot member, already enough "awake" to quite stand up on his own. He relished in the sight of her delicate profile staring intensely at his penis, he was dying of anticipation to see her go down and take him in her mouth. He forgot to blink, or maybe he just didn't want to, not to miss any moment of her first time.

"Will you teach me if I do wrong?" she asked with a slightly childish voice, grabbing him.

"Sure thing. But I'm sure you'll do great."

As her lips grazed his most sensitive tip, Chris's eyes shut to open up only when he felt her glide down on his length. Uncountable were the times he had dreamt of that vision! The two of them in his car, her head bobbing up and down on his groin, her big irises shuttling between his face and his dick, his hand busy in stroking her head, her back, her breasts.

And so it was that, in a car whose windowpanes got more and more steamy, hidden behind a forsaken factory, Claire gave Chris the first blow job of her life. Thanks to another little lever beside the driver's seat, Chris reclined the backrest that little enough to stay more comfortable, not to be too much incumbent on her head and still be enough close to wholly enjoy the sight of her mouth stretching around him.

Hadn't it been for the steam of their breaths stuck on the glass, a hypothetical voyeur would've surely enjoyed the show of a young, apparently lonely man, grimacing in ecstasy with his head surrendered on the headrest, biting his knuckle every time he tried to edge.

Claire was pretty good to be her first time and Chris simply didn't correct a single move. He just moaned through his nose how good she was making him feel. It felt good and luscious as the revenge it was. A revenge to all the Jakes and Brads that had dared (or attempted) to possess her. On that greyish evening him only would've picked a virginity she'd involuntarily preserved.

"Good girl." he hoarsely sighed when he began panting.

Claire felt him shiver under her touch and put even more effort in her pleasing him the best she could, pushing his manhood even deeper in her mouth, even though more than once she had to gulp down a retch.

He was close, she felt it. She felt it in his member, in his heavy panting, in the slight upwards pushes of his hips, she felt it in his hands kneading her breasts in desperation. She felt it in his sighs and louder moans. The awareness of being far from any potential witness and earshot, far from their house's thin walls, had the double effect to both relax and excite him to scream his pleasure out loud.

"I'm close, baby!" he warned in case she wanted to pull back. But Claire continued undauntedly her sucking with rising pace.

"I'm coming!" he roared, when a shocking and noisy orgasm made him roll his eyes back.

* * *

"Did I do good?" Claire asked, putting away the tissue with which she had cleaned the sperm drops off her face.

Chris was still panting hard, completely relaxed on the seat and got to hum a simple "Mh-mh!" and nod.

She giggled and, as he seemed pretty knocked out, she preoccupied to tidy up his lower parts.

"Wait, let me help you…" he hoarsely muttered, buttoning up his jeans. His strong hands glided from his pants to her arms, then her waist, to pull her closer once again.

Claire sat astride on him, who in the meantime had completely reclined the backrest, and threw her arms around his neck.

"So… have I passed the test?" she questioned, enjoying his warm hands stroking her nude back.

"With flying colours!" he said and tenderly kissed her.

Claire wasn't expecting such a move. According to what some other girls had told her, most guys don't like kissing on the lips after oral sex. Chris, instead, hadn't seemed to dislike shoving his tongue on hers, and that left her amazed. All her stupor didn't go unnoticed.

"What's up?" he wondered.

"Well… I thought guys don't kiss after a blow job."

"You kidding?!" he gushed. "I love that! Maybe not everyone does but… I love it!"

"Did you use to kiss the other girls too?" she investigated, nipping at her lip. "The other _five_?"

"Sure."

"Were they better than me?"

"What?!" he scoffed. "I ain't gonna answer this." he growled, a quiet hysterical laugh carrying his gaze away from her.

"Oh, c'mon! I'm just curious…" she insisted.

"How the fuck do you even think I'd tell you?"

"Why not? You know I'm not jealous!"

"Baby, I dunno what kind of guys you dated – no wait_, I do_ – but _Chris Redfield_ doesn't comment his exes with the girl he's banging." He unremovably stated. "Moreover… I could ask you the same thing!"

"And I'd tell you everything!"

"I don't want to know!" He replied, suppressing the surfacing images of Claire moaning under another guy. Hadn't he been still so stoned by that massive shot of endorphins, he'd have surely loured. "I don't want to compare you to anyone." Because to him she was incomparable, but she evidently misunderstood.

"But you guys do it all the time! Don't forget I've been one of you!" she sassed. "And I know so many things about you now…" she simpered, streaming a finger below the collar of his hoodie and kissing his warm skin. "About Sherry for example…"

If she was trying to induce him to spill the beans, she was wasting her time. "So now you're talking about _my_ ex. Does it turn you on?" he mocked.

"…I know you liked to take her from behind…" she purred, ignoring his awkward attempt to deviate the conversation.

"I used to like many things..." That conversation was bothering him. She was fucking with him, that was obvious, it wasn't anything more than a game, but still he disliked it. He hated thinking of her being pleased by someone else or look at another guy with that same aroused gaze she did to him, just as much as he disliked her total lack of jealousy. "... but now I like you." He roared under his breath and pushed a hand below her waistband while drawing her lips back on the only mouth they belonged to.

"Woah, Chris!" Claire gushed, sarcastically scandalized. "Do you want more?! I thought I made you come!"

"Oh, you did, love. You did." The cat mewled. "but now it's your turn!" the lion roared as he flipped her over and clashed her onto the passenger seat.

* * *

In a savage smooching and rolling, somehow they had ended up on the backseats. Somehow not all of their clothes had followed them, except for their pants. Chris's ones were still on their rightful place, properly buttoned. Claire's, instead, were all rolled up around her ankles and shoes. The rest of their garments laid scattered in the whole car. Her bra had even stolen the place of the car air freshener for a while now, as it cluelessly hanged by the rear-view mirror.

If before the windows were only steamed now they wept beads of their breaths and sweat.

Chris was properly fingering her. There wasn't enough space for him to return the received oral consideration _and_ enjoy the view of her at the same time. Thus, with the head inserted between her tilted calves, he kneaded her breast and teased her nipple with a hand, shoving his thumb in her mouth every now and then, whilst with the other he ravaged her vagina with an almost superhuman vigour. He roared, he howled and he felt a god. A _sisterfucking_ god. He'd have not stopped until she'd begged for him to. Something that – had he understood anything about her – wouldn't have happened easily. But he wanted to take her so over the edge she'd not bear it. Just in case any comparison had bloomed in her mind, he'd have brutally erased it. Apparently, his strategy was successful as she screamed her pleasure on top of her lungs.

Notwithstanding her noisy vocalizations, they both heard the clearest sound of Chris's phone ringing.

Striving to prevent her eyes to roll back, she glared him not to even slightly think of picking up, but when Chris glanced at the screen and read the contact name, he paralyzed.

"It's Dad!" he gasped.

"He'll call back." She mewled in urge.

"No, Claire. If I don't pick it up, he'll call you, and we'll be back to square one!" he said, stopping any rubbing on her.

"He doesn't know we're together! He won't call me!" she whined, beginning to erratically boost her hips upwards in the wain attempt to be penetrated by his fingers anew. "No! Don't stop! Please! I'm close!" she desperately mewled.

"It might be important." He uttered.

Unfortunately for Claire, Chris was plain lucid unlike her who by then only aimed to climax in grand style. "I'll be quick!" he said, quietening her with a brief move of his forefinger on his pursed lips. It smelled like her, he licked it. As always.

"Hi, Dad." He said while freeing his head from her legs.

Claire heard that someone had answered on the other end but she couldn't sort out any word. She only knew that Chris was nodding at the phone instead of accomplishing his (finger)fucking mission. As if whatever their father had to tell was more important than what they were about to do. More important than her.

She felt her clit pulse and shiver madly, she was just so close to her climax... oh, screw it! If Chris wouldn't take care of her, she'd do it herself!

She slid a hand down on herself and stroked.

For a moment Chris was blown away. Watching his sister masturbate before (below) him, took some past fantasies and vivid memories back to life, but the rough voice of Robert – as the big clash it was – prevented him from getting completely lost.

"Sorry… I haven't heard you…" he murmured and mouthed a silent "stop" as his free hand snatched Claire's ones off her lower parts. Being the hands of both of them slippery for her arousal, Claire quite easily managed to slip off his grip and hastily resumed her wet rubbing. He tried again but again she rebelled.

"Yeah I see, Dad. I think it's fine." He said, trying not to betray his struggle in preventing his sister to masturbate.

Soon they began slap fighting like two cats (or bickering children). One big hand him, two little but deft hands her. She planted her feet on his abdomen and pushed him back, but she hadn't considered the steel lingering under that glowing skin. He didn't move of a single inch.

If Chris tried to don't let anything of the ongoing quarrel transpire, Claire instead took it lightly and began laughing so loudly that her brother was forced to buck onwards and use his only free hand to shut her mouth, glaring a warning hard stare at her.

_Hush, you little slut!_

Now that her hands had no more foes, nothing could stop her anymore. Loud, nasal moans filled the car, escaping the poor barrier arrayed.

"I guess Grandpa is right… ugh!... We should try with a new rear swingarm." He said loudly, hoping it'd have covered her loudest noises.

"What was that?" Robert questioned on the other hand.

"Nothing." He replied, gritting his teeth at a long and loud moan of Claire. Dammit, she was getting close. He was running out of time.

He heard Robert giggle amused and ask "you're with a girl, right?"

Chris couldn't deny the evidence, as the umpteenth desperate moan of need ringed in the air, loud as a howling wolf. "Actually yes, Dad."

"Great, son! Show her what it means to be screwed by a Redfield!" Robert proudly cheered. "Be sure to wear the cond-"

Chris hung up before his father could finish his recommendation, just in time to hear Claire shout her climax and watch her shock under him. She clasped her thighs together with everything that was between them. With her knees on her chest, her feet ungratefully slammed on the throat of a bothered Chris.

"Couldn't you wait, could you?" he growled as soon as he was sure she had finished.

She replied with a fresh, genuine, liberating laugh.

"He could've recognized you!" he continued.

She kept laughing. "I had to shlick, you dumbahahaha!"

She laughed so heartily and spontaneously that it ended up infecting him as well who, even if strained himself from openly laugh, he couldn't curb a smile.

"Now Dad thinks I've got a girlfriend!" he said, palming his head and shaking it.

"Not bad. Still better than letting him know you didn't please his little girl as you ought to."

"Oh stop it you!" he chuckled and eye rolled. "If only you waited just a little I'd have made you come much better than this."

"It'll be for next time." She shrugged. "Now come here. Miss you."

* * *

They had cleaned the car and they were now getting ready to go back home just in time for dinner. While Chris was busy with his hoodie, Claire turned the radio on and smirked when the unmistakable ending notes of _Rocket Queen_ reverberated in the air. She felt a bit of a Rocket Queen right then. Chris had praised so much her performance! That would've been such a perfect soundtrack for her first blow job! He would've loved to share that moment with Axl and the band for sure! _Eargasm_ and oral sex, what else a boy could ever desire? She took a mental note to turn the music on "before" on the next time though, as now the song was over and the cheesy voice of the radio speaker was announcing nasty weather on Halloween. According to the perky speaker, the forecast called for a huge tempest to flagellate Raccoon City.

_Shit. Halloween is screwed. _She thought, and mentally waved goodbye to her downtown masquerade stroll with the girls. No sexy scientist in pantyhose and lacey garter on this year!

The sky on Raccoon City was still sheer and cloudless and it'd have remained like that for the whole day and night but, that a hurricane was about to rage, was anticipated by a lone thunder. A thunder that didn't cross any sky, nor was heard by anyone outside that car. That sign of gods' anger had the voice, the rumble and the destructiveness of a Redfield.

"That was a close call, Claire." Chris grumbled, utterly ignoring the meteorological news and lowering the volume to the minimum. He wasn't anymore the turned-on guy of few minutes before, who would even titter at her careless demeanour. Then again, he was serious and grave, upset for the huge risk she had exposed the two of them. After any hot-headed act, any adrenaline outburst, Chris would always chew things over better. Therefore, now that impulsivity and peril-induced fright had given way to ponderation and quietude, he just couldn't accept the fact that his sister had acted so stupid and, even worse, that he'd let her. "Too close."

"I was close too!" she joked but her silly chuckle faded and died on her lips as she eyed his stern gaze.

His hazel brown eyes pierced hers with the most intimidating and uncomfortable of gazes she had ever seen on him. "I'm not kidding."

"I was… I-I…" She cleared her throat in discomfort. Drought took over her tongue. _Claire, wait a second. _

What was going on? Chris was blaming her for having picked up a call he could've easily ignored?! No way she'd let him! She had warned him she'd have not stopped. It wasn't her fault if he had been so inconsiderate to stay near! Fuck, he had fingered her with no mercy, he had screamed – hoarse, hot and bossy – right to her face to "come for him" and he even dared to claim _when_ she had to?! What did he think she was? A porn video? _You can't pause me, Chris._ Crossing her arms, she slammed herself against the backrest and frowned in irritation. "You could've got out the car if talking to Daddy was so important to you!"

Chris grunted in exasperation. He angrily jerked the keys and pushed a button under the car radio. "Look!" he roared, pointing at a little display behind the steering. "It's fifty degrees outside! And I was fucking shirtless and sweaty!"

Claire's frown worsened and she huffed. She hated when she was wrong. "Still, you could just _not_ pick the call."

With the corner of her eye, she saw his tight-lipped jaw clench as he looked through the windowpane, away from her face. He rubbed the steamy glass with a hand. He could've spent another couple of hours trying to explain her why he had to pick it up, but uselessly. Thus, he preferred to say nothing instead of barking his vexation at her.

Of course he could've ignored the phone call and continued, but they were walking on fucking eggshells and he was wary and always on the lookout, he just preferred to avoid eliciting any attention, lest it'd have turned into suspicion – as much as it might have seemed improbable, still it wasn't impossible.

"I had to. And even if I hadn't, I did! So you had to stop." He said a little softer.

Was on Earth any chance for her to win that fight? She searched but she didn't find any. The more she retorted, the more he seemed to pull out the hat a better argument.

"Well, Dad could've never guessed those moans were mine!" she lastly shrugged.

"That's something we cannot tell!" he objected.

"C'mon, Chris!" she exclaimed, grimacing in disgust. "Daddy has never heard me cum-"

"We must be careful, Claire!" Chris harshly interrupted. He rested a wrist on the steering wheel, a fist she'd never fear tightened, and he slightly turned to her. "They don't have absolutely to catch us."

He looked at her dead in the eyes, with a gravity that left no room for any humour to defuse the tension neither to any retort to increase it. He was dead serious. "This has to be our secret, remember?"

As if they had become telepaths, the same words were summoned in their minds and resounded clear and heavy. Like a second thunder. _It'll be our secret._ It had been exactly her to spell them, back on Saturday in the basement.

"It doesn't just mean we cannot breathe a word to anybody." he continued, resolutely cutting the air with a determined rush of his knife-like hand. His tone was calm, almost sweet, but his eyes, his words, were all sternly reproaching her for her imprudence. "It means we must not get fucking caught! And not only because they… _nobody_ would understand why we crave each other…" she swore his voice flickered a bit in that moment. "But also because incest it's a fucking crime."

Claire looked down in sorrow. He had hit the mark.

Unawares, she had exposed him to a risk way bigger than the one of getting their parents to suspect they were two nasty kids. Apparently, siblings can go to jail and rot in there for years for loving each other… differently. The sudden thought of prison shocked her so much that she shook her head in terror to cast the thought off and shuddered for both the cold and the dread. She rubbed her shoulders to warm up, but the freeze his words had forced into her had hurt way deeper inside. The more the sorrow penetrated into the abyss of her soul, the more an old oozy and sticky resurfaced like sewage out of a bituminous well. It was a grip around the stomach, a dull ache in the arteries, a contraction of lungs. Claire recognized it immediately, it was her old time archenemy.

Panic.

That bastard didn't give a damn about endorphins and everything was a wellbeing source for her. It only aimed to conquer and destroy, haunt and torture. She closed her eyes and tried to calm down. She had already ruined the moment too much. She didn't want to give Chris another bad memory of an evening he otherwise wished was only tender and romantic.

A quiet rustle of clothes was all she needed to hear to know that he had shifted from his seat and was just few inches away from her.

"I'm an idiot." She murmured as his caress on the base of her neck healed her inner distress. "I'm sorry, Chris. I'd do nothing that might put you in trouble! I just didn't… you know… the implications…"

"Claire…" He sighed, drawing her head to his. "I want you, you know it… madly…" that last word came out as a shaky hybrid of a sigh and a defenceless laugh. "And I'm willing to run the risk but… we must be careful. Both of us."

She smiled. There was no pain in the world her big brother couldn't cure.

"I will be." She declared and sealed her oath with a kiss.

"It won't be a bed of roses but we have no choice, babe." He whispered on her lips.

"As far as there's a bed involved, I'm standing by!" she chuckled.

Secrecy was the password to their lives, by far more than it was legit to ask to teenagers. But for them, who had become pretty experienced in the field of telling lies, secrecy was a fair price to pay. What is to curb a few moans compared to being hauled up before the court for one's sexual drive? What is having to hide down in the basement late at night compared to the totalizing pleasure and unequalled magic their bodies could create and share when naked and close? What is shamelessly lying at everyone, family and friends, compared to those moments of truthful nudity and sighed invocation?

A fair price in loose change.

* * *

**The blow job affair was a little promise I did to Xaori a bunch of decades ago. So Xaori, here's the virginity. The only one he could pick.**

**I hope this second act is entertaining you all! Let me know u.u**

**The third is still a bunch of chapters away but don't worry, it will hit them hard in the face :D**

**See you next chapter! **

**That, by the way, will be released in episodes because it's even longer than this. One episode per week. I'll explain better when it'll come out. Stay tuned!**

**Post post scriptum: am I being a little too mean towards Ashley? Honestly, she destroyed my ears during the whole damn RE4 (sometimes I still hear the echo of her chicken voice at night) ... SO NO. She's a bitch here. And I love so much writing about her! She's funny. Her way.**


	19. Freaky Friday (1 of 3)

**IMPORTANT!**

**CHAPTER 18 IS A LONG (NOT-ANYMORE) PARENTHESIS IN THE STORY.**

**Originally, it was meant to be a stand-alone spin off, "_a party without plot to avenge Jill's honour_", that wouldn't add any drama to the main story. ****But, when I reimagined all the rest of Act 2 and 3, this normal teenage party seemed to me the perfect ambience in which I could mess up the plot and ignite many new dramas – and have some fun along the way. That's why I profoundly edited it and totally merged it into OMIYS.**

**As I don't want to bore you with a super long chapter (risking that some important details - _clues_ \- would go unnoticed) I split it into 3 segments. I'll share one part a week, so that you can take your time to read each section without forgetting what happened... on previous episodes. ****I hope this makes up for the long wait, after all it's like having three new chapters in less than a month!**

**P.S. it turns out being pretty useful now that we're almost all locked down, right? **

* * *

**Chapter 18 – Freaky Friday (1 of 3)**

* * *

**Part 1 – See you at Claire's!**

"I think that's way _toooo_ much for us, Mom!" Claire bemoaned.

"Oh, please!" Lily scoffed, rocking the pan. "You're having _five_ guests tonight!"

"Five _girls_! Not five sumo fighters!" Claire pointed out, arms crossed over her chest. "And they're bringing take away food, by the way!"

Claire should've known she better not tell her mother she was having a sleepover with the girls, not until her friends were about to come over. Same old story, every time: the slightest mention of guests and Lily would just pull out the kitchen apron, entrench behind the hoven and prepare tons of food.

But this time... it wasn't like all the other times.

This time was special. Meaningful.

It was the very first sleepover Claire had held after weeks of self-seclusion and loneliness, the first time she took her friends home for an only-girls night. And Lily felt some sort of obligation towards her daughter and her girls too. After all the troubles that had messed with Claire and, therefore, with her friends, that was the occasion for her to symbolically come back and bond with her girls all over again.

A rebirth as a teenage girl.

And – last but not least – a chance to recuperate the horrible Halloween that an inopportune storm of just two days before had forced all of them to spend at home.

That's why Lily had spent the last hour sautéing some delicious finger foods she had found out on a trendy cooking website. And she didn't want to hear of Claire telling her they had collected money for some Japanese take away to pick at whilst all clustered in front of a teenage movie drama, floating on a sea of pillows and blankets in their cosiest pyjamas, hot herbal infusions and lots, lots, lots of gossip everywhere.

"Don't you worry. No one will get fat because of one or two _tapas_." Lily sneered.

* * *

Chris had just returned home from a long, strenuous run and was dripping sweat in his red and black loose tank top and matching fitness shorts. As he emerged from the front door, his ears were met by the shrill chatting of… _girls?!_ His eyebrow jolted up in perplexity at the very first yell.

He took few steps towards the wide arched entrance of the dining room and the sight of the just arrived girls simply unravelled before him like springtime lingering behind the latest winter cloud. The whole squad was there: Jill, carefully pulling the food boxes out of the paper bags; Rebecca, staring at the food like a hungry wolf; Sheva compulsively texting; Ashley, idly sitting on a chair and, lastly, there was Claire, busy arranging her mother's tapas onto a serving tray.

"Hello everyone!" He politely waved, panting a little and not concealing a note of surprise in his voice.

"Hi Chris!" They replied almost in unison, taken aback by his sudden appearance – Ashley _in primis_.

"Hello there, big boy!" the outsider voice of Moira Burton reached him from his right where she lazily had slanted against the wall, arms crossed and a smug expression printed on her face.

"Hey, tomboy! What's going on here?" Chris asked, tracing a fast circle in the air with his forefinger.

"Last minute sleepover, dude." Moira smirked and shrugged at the girls with a wave of the head.

"Sleepover, uh? I see..." Chris mumbled, glancing at his sister's curved back leaned onto the big table.

As Lily overheard her son's voice from the kitchen, she called him to come over. Obediently he crossed the dining room but didn't miss the chance to slap a playful yet implicit sound pat on Claire's butt as he passed behind her. At her protesting "hey!", he winked and grinned, with an expression that had all the sarcasm of an invisible air-quote.

_Glad you "informed me in advance"!_

"Hey darling, you're so sweaty!" Lily said once he was nearby.

"Yeah Mom... I ran for... well... _woah!_ 5 miles!" He proudly exclaimed, glancing at his fitness watch and wiping rivulets of perspiration away from his temples.

"You'd better have a warm shower soon otherwise you'll get a cold." She motherly suggested.

"Sure thing. I stink!"

Lily let out an agreeing laughter and continued "anyway, tonight me and Dad are going out for dinner. He wanted to free the house for the girls so they can have fun without the... _elders_." she chuckled.

"Oh, that's great Mom! I can't even remember the last time you two went out on a date!" he cheered and smacked a sound peck on his mother's cheek.

Lily laughed heartily as she heard her simple dinner and theatre with her husband being called a _date_. "Will you have dinner with the girls or do I have to prepare you something before I leave?"

He was going to reply that he didn't need anything, that he might cook something by himself later on or just order a pizza, but he was preceded by a squealing Ashley that, from the big table, had overheard the conversation.

"Of course Chris can eat with us, Mrs Redfield! We have brought so much food, and you have prepared so much more! There's plenty for him too!" She had put on her nicest smile and smarmily blinked her eyes at the blonde woman and her handsome young son.

"Chris if you want you can have dinner with us." Claire stated. "Ashley's right, there's too much food for just the _six_ of us." Slight, pointed, unconcealed sideswipe to her mother's exaggerated sense of proportion when it comes to food. She knew that after all the weeks when he had been forced to be around them and their girlish talking (mostly about himself), maybe Chris wasn't really amused by the idea of a whole night surrounded by her friends, but she didn't want him to have dinner all alone either. After all, his presence would surely make them avoid talking smut about him and that was a good advantage for her, because hearing praises about his physique would just turn on her desire and fantasies – and with the girls around that was to avoid.

"Ok, Claire... I'll dine with you tonight!" He said right before disappearing in the staircase for a needed shower before the sweat would dry out on his skin. The idea of a lonely pizza wasn't entertaining him at all… as well as a girly night didn't tickle his enthusiasm at all, but _all that food_... damn, it was too inviting to be ignored!

Ashley turned to look at the other girls with a victorious grin, clapping her hands and leaping on her toes like the overenthusiastic teen she was. But she wasn't the happiest in that room. Another girl was happier than her for that unexpected – but secretly hoped – twist, even if for a whole different reason.

It was Rebecca.

Having Chris with them for the whole evening was a too much of a precious occasion to spoil it. She'd have had her _subject of investigation_ under her constant and heedful observation.

Rebeck Holmes was sure that on that night she'd have collected enough evidence to show everyone she was right and solve the _Mysterious Girl_ case once and for all! She foretasted the satisfaction of slamming the fact that Chris had a crush on Jill right in the face of Ashley and Sheva.

_Cool down, Becca. Prejudice only leads to greatest mistakes! _

She took mental note of not taking anything for granted, but inside she hoped as never before that she was right. Jill had done so much progress about her crush in those last days... who knows, maybe the time had come for her to face the truth and open up to possibilities.

* * *

**Part 2 - Lip-lock, door lock**

Chris stood before the steamed mirror, vigorously rocking a towel over his drenched hair when he heard a knock on the bathroom door. He made haste to wrap the big cotton cloth around the waist and opened.

"Chris I have to ask you a thing…" Claire uttered quite loudly making her way in, waving a finger before her pensive nose, while Jill and Rebecca disappeared in the distance behind the corner of the wall.

"I'm all ears." He said.

Chris couldn't restrain a gasp as Claire literally assaulted him, wrapping his neck in her arms and pulling him down to hungrily kiss him on the lips. While he instinctively slid a hand over the curve of her back to draw her closer, he crashed the other against the door to fucking slam it closed and kept it pressed on it lest someone walked in.

"Sweetheart!" he managed to whisper, overly surprised and breathless, pulling away to free his lips just for a few instants. "Hehehey! Hold down!"

Claire occupied his mouth with her lust for a little bit more, purring like a cat eating her favourite food. She was so turned on that even got Chris's back to crash onto the door almost losing balance under her onrush.

"You shouldn't leave your guests alone." He smiled, caging her torso in his firm, tender hold.

"I know Chris. I just wanted to kiss you now that you're alone up here as we won't have the chance for the rest of the night." She whispered back.

"I wonder why." He sarcastically growled.

"Sorry, I should've warned you…" she cooed.

"Yeah, a tip-off would've been appreciated." He moaned, giving her a dirty look.

"Would it make a difference if I tell you that we put it up in like… ten minutes?" she maliciously grinned.

"That's a record for you all!" he snickered. "You girls take so much time to fuckin-"

Claire resumed her hungry kissing before he could say anything mean about her friends' habit to take _hours_ to plan what to do.

"Mmh... Baby, I love when you're so horny..." he smiled against her lips.

"You aren't, though." She said, smirking in lewdness and rubbing her hips against his.

He looked down and laughed with a headshake. "I had to rub one out. I can't just hang around you for the rest of the night with my dick loaded like a machine gun!"

"Such a pity! I hoped I got the chance for a quick blow job..." she teased while gently patting on his groin.

"You know quick and blow job cannot be in the same sentence when talking about me, Claire." He breathed out in a gruff voice as he grazed her earlobe with his lips. Tilting his head back from her neck, he added "And by the way, we can't right now. Especially not with Jill and Becky upstairs!"

"You're right. But don't worry, they can't hear our _smooching_." She winked pursing her lips in a kiss and brushing his mouth. "They're in the guests' room now."

"What for?"

"Oh, we settled to do the sleepover down in the living room, so you can stay with us. We'll turn it into a super cosy room, with blankets and pillows!" she enthused.

He scratched his stubble a bit, eyes closed, while thinking about the night awaiting him ahead: Claire, food, movie, sofa, pillows… perfection. Then girls, girls' chitchats, girls' gossip, girls, Ashley's annoying voice, girls... he mumbled about the nightmarish occurrence of that night ending up with some pink nail polish drying out on his manly feet.

_Not again._

* * *

Claire left the bathroom to go to Girly Room and grab her big padded blanket and as many pillows as she could find. Chris followed her barefoot, giggling something about himself, sheikhs and oriental harems.

"Chris, can you please take those square cushions in my closet?" Claire asked while forcefully peeling the blanket away from her bed.

"Sure."

Chris pushed the curtain's tingling pearl strings aside and him, his brawns and the towel disappeared into the closet.

"Found 'em? They're on the top shelf!" Claire yelped, striving to roll up the thick cover.

As she received no answers, a dubious eyebrow jumped up and the blanket slid to the ground.

"Chris...?" she called out, approaching the closet veiled entrance.

What she saw in the narrow space between the high shelves as she stepped in, left her speechless.

A towering Chris stood mother naked and silent before the wall-wide mirror with the white towel scattered on the floor around his feet. A hand was surfing through his chest, cautiously palming his own muscles.

"Missing old times?" she smiled.

His reflected serious gaze shifted to her sweet one. "I just wanted to see _me_ in this mirror." He murmured.

Claire's soft smile disappeared behind the reflection of his shoulder just to morph into a warm kiss on his meaty shoulder blade. She pressed a cheek on his back and smiled anew, wrapping her arms around his torso, hands wandering on his sculpted chest and lacing with his.

"It's the first time I see myself full-size since... I can't even remember." He continued.

"Honey…" She purred. "You could come here anytime you wanted."

"I know. I guess I just feared I'd not bear to... see _Chris_ and not Claire anymore." He confessed and, tightening his caring grab over her hands, he added. "I mean, I already saw _myself_ in the bathroom but… _this_ _mirror_… in this mirror I was _you_. I took you here. Every night."

"And how does it feel now that you see yourself and not my body anymore?" she softly asked, keeping pecking at his skin.

"I'm fine. It actually feels better than I thought!" he smiled, letting his eyes run down his whole nudity. "I'm a man again." He smiled at his penis.

"You know, Chris... it took me a few days to get used to seeing myself in that glass again." She sighed. "I lost count of all the jumpscares I got!"

"C'mere." He muttered, making room for her to stand before him. Now it was him to hug her from behind. An enfolding, warm, totally-Chris-like embrace.

"I never looked at myself in it when I was in your body, you know?" Claire said. "But now… now this mirror is the proof that I'm fine. Every day, it tells me that the worst is over. That I am Claire and I'm back in my body." Her voice flickered only that little bit the fulfilling wholesomeness of his touch allowed her.

Chris pressed a meaningful kiss on her hair and, staring at her through the glassy surface, he gruffly susurrated with the most candid tone "I want to fuck you here."

"Such a pity you just jerked off." She purred as the shivers he elicited down her spine let her speak again.

"Well, we got plenty of time. And the fucking house is full of people tonight, by the way." He growled. "But I'll fuck you here."

Of course he hadn't felt the lack of Claire as he had taken her every night in that last week down in the basement. Since that first time on Saturday night, they had begun to sneak downstairs at a very late hour and made love either in the little bathroom or on the comfy bench. Though, when desire would turn over them during daytime they had to take his car and go somewhere else as they couldn't risk doing it at home whilst their parents were around. What if they called them? Or worse, if they entered the bedroom in the middle of the intercourse?

Thus, it had been a week full of car fucks, basement floor fucks, but no comfortable sex in bed. And, honestly, they were beginning to miss it.

Unfortunately, on that night they weren't getting any as well. Instead, they had to pretend they weren't drooling over the other and do it convincingly.

Chris despised it. He already had to pretend and fake every morning at school – even if only in the brief moments they'd meet – but doing it at home too… it was unacceptable. Home was their haven, their love nest, in which they just had to disappear upstairs for some hot cuddles in the afternoon or downstairs for some raw sex by night. And on a night their house was parents-free he'd rather romantically fuck her in Girly Room, not giving a shit about the mattress' fucking springs and showing off how good he'd make both the bed and his sister squeak.

The idea of masturbating the night away entertained him even less than a girlish party.

Chris was the first one to exit the closet, whilst re-wrapping the towel around his waist, and gasped loudly as Girly Room's door abruptly was thrown open and Rebecca and that ambulant pile of pillows and covers formerly known as Jill noisily rolled in.

_Jesus Christ!_

One second earlier and they'd watched him fully naked!

Jill was so _not_ expecting to find anybody else than Claire in there – let alone that modern times' Adonis of a barenaked Chris – that she simply tripped on the hem of the blanket she was carrying and fell face forward on the ground, pillows bouncing and rolling all around.

She implored the Lord to take her life away in that very moment.

* * *

"Ouf… these pillows may be fluffy but they're pretty heavy!" Becky had said, just few minutes before, staggering towards the guests' room's door, all her upper body engulfed in a huge pile of fabric. Who might ever want _eight_ pillows on their bed?! What kind of perverted guests attended the Redfields' house?

"Where do you think you're going?" Jill laughed. "Claire said to pick the blanket too!"

"Oh, geez! No!" Rebecca cried.

"Come here, we can use it to do a bundle!" Jill's gumption suggested.

Rebecca was more than happy to throw her squashy load on the blanket and helped her friend to roll it into a giant ravioli of softness.

"You sure we need the blanket too?" Rebecca questioned.

"If you don't trust my memory, go ask Claire then!" Jill eyerolled.

"On my way!" Rebecca cheered as Jill wrestled with the mass alone.

The bedroom she ignored was named Girly Room, had the door slightly open and the lights on.

_Claire must be in there. _

She peered into it but it was desert. The rosy blanket laid scattered on the floor but there was no trace of the ginger-head.

_Maybe she's downstairs._

And she was going to turn on her heels hadn't she heard a voice coming from the closet. Rebecca, as the little investigator she inwardly was, eavesdropped without the slightest hesitation.

"_I never looked at myself in it when I was in your body, you know?"_

It was Claire. Who was she talking with? She heard her mention a… mirror? …being the proof of something? …_I'm back in my body_? The hell was she saying?!

Hadn't Rebecca been so well informed about Claire's life, she'd have thought her friend was rehearsing some sort of theatrical piece. But she knew she hadn't got any role for the Christmas ballet recital in account of her bad muscle tear!

What. Was. Going. On?!

She stepped inside, cautiously, determined to uncover the mystery, but when a low, gruff whisper of Chris rumbled indistinct in the air, she froze.

She didn't get his words, however… it didn't sound as his usual. It was low… warm… breathy… intimate. Something in Chris's tone put her in keen discomfort, but she couldn't get to guess what. Though it was enough creepy for her to make up her mind to let down any investigation and turn on her heels as fast as a tornado, as if she suddenly feared to be discovered by him. The nice girl realized she had been actually furtively sneaking in someone else's house!

_J-jerk o-off?! The hell?! _

Those words ran faster than her.

_Claire! You dirty girl!_

Rebecca's jaw dropped in dismay as she heard Claire talking about masturbation with her brother and she couldn't help but wonder how damn close their siblinghood was if he informed his sister about his... sex... routine?!

_Ok, Becca. That's none of your business… whatever… whatever it is! Now, close the door, you stupid snooper! Good… like this… Just make non effin' sound and…_

"Thanks for the help, you lazy bitch!" a vagrant mount of softness huffed, shambling towards her. "Now _you_ take this bulk downstairs!"

"No. No wait! Stop! Stop, Jill!" Rebecca had lowly cried before the blind mountain inevitably had squashed her onto the half-closed door.

* * *

Now the quartet stood silent in Girly Room. The boy, on his side, was pretty embarrassed and surprised, Jill was waiting for the stairway to heaven to appear for her and Claire was seraphic and relaxed as a Buddhist monk. Only Rebecca was still trying to figure out what the hell her friend had just told, and she was even more astonished now that she'd seen that Chris was barenaked!

"Jill!" Chris exclaimed in concern as he knelt to ease her up. "Are you ok?"

Jill rolled on her back and covered her face with a pillow. "I'm alive." _Unfortunately_.

"Here, let me help you." He said, lifting her in his arms and standing up. Such an unnecessary show off of his brawns!

Jill didn't imagine him to be actually that strong and that unrequested act of kindness had the effect to make her blush even more. He eased her on her feet and with his most charming smile he left the room, reassuring everyone he'd have brought also his pillows downstairs.

"Are you still breathing?" Claire insinuated, nudging at her friend in malice.

A still awestruck Jill cleared her throat and combed her short hair with the hand. "Kind of." She smiled and that was the boldest crush-admission she'd ever done.

"You almost had a stroke!"

"Prepare your ears for Ashley, instead!" Jill cackled. "I cannot even imagine how high she will scream when we'll tell her that she's missed a barenaked Chris."

"Do we necessarily have to tell her?" Claire sarcastically wondered.

"Of course!" Jill yelled, eagerly rushing outside. "I don't want to miss the scene!"

* * *

"WHAAAAT THE FUUUUUUUCCCKKK?!" A dumbfounded Ashley screeched, making more than one ear bleed.

She just stood there, in the middle of the living room, pillows in hand, jaw dropped, eyes blinking in disbelief, at a complete loss for words while the other girls were busy disposing of everything for their sleepover.

"You heard well, Ash!" Jill snorted with an eye roll, failing to hide a bit of vengeful satisfaction. "He was in _fuuuull_ display!"

"Claire, you were there too, right?" Ashley asked, once she recovered her speech.

"Yeah...?"

"And you can confirm that he was actually with only a towel on?"

"Yup."

Ashley had to sit down on the armchair, mulling over what they told her and mentally cursing herself for having preferred to lay down on the couch to put her lip-gloss on instead of going upstairs.

"How I wish I was you, Claire!" She lastly said.

"Why?" Claire asked, gulping down a gasp.

"Because you live with him!" she squealed. "You can always see Chris going around shirtless or enter the bathroom while he's in the shower and things like that!"

"If I were you, I wouldn't envy her!" Jill intervened, grimacing in disgust at the blondie.

"What? Why?" Ashley asked, her dreamy eyes bouncing to the brunette.

"Because Claire is his _sister_..." Jill eyerolled as she was explaining what was quite obvious "…she just doesn't watch her brother naked! I know you're an only child but this should be clear even for you. If you have a crush on a guy, his sister is the last person on Earth you should envy! No shit! 'Cause she's the only one who can't watch him and who he doesn't watch at all!"

"In fact, I saw nothing of what you mean, you little pig!" Claire intervened, maliciously swinging a finger at her friend. She faked a naivety air but inwardly laughed at the conversation going on. Oh, if only they knew the truth... they should really envy her! _Watching_ was the least she had done to _their_ crush!

"Well… If I were his sister I'd totally sneak in the bathroom while Chris is showering!" Ashley daydreamt. "I mean, he's the hottest guy in our school!"

"After Leon!" Rebecca replied faking a cough.

"I'll leave him to you, Beck, and keep Chris for me." Ashley stated.

"'Sup Chris!" Moira waved looking somewhere past Ashley, making the blondie turn around with a huge ashamed gasp lest her crush had heard her from behind.

"Oh you total… BITCH!" she yelled at a rolling off for laughs Moira as she realized she had been bamboozled.

"You should see your face right n-ahahahah!" the young Burton managed to spell, wiping away her laughter tears.

* * *

**Part 3 – Bare banality**

The girls had gone to Girly Room to put their pyjamas on and get all geared up for the sleepover.

From Man's Cave, Chris could hear their laughs mix up into an indistinct vociferation that swayed like a spirited, warm country breeze in a continuous rising and fading in volume. It was just a matter of minutes and the feminine wind would've crammed the whole house, trapping him in a tornado of chatter and other idiocies.

Chris frowned and huffed.

He could easily picture himself surrounded by all those girls who'd have never stopped chit-chatting and gossiping and bickering for a single moment like… like… like… ugh, he sighed in surrender.

Truth be told, he couldn't really despise their company – let alone after a whole month with them – he had to admit they were a bunch of exquisite souls and he was immensely grateful that Claire could call them her friends but… but on that night, notwithstanding how he cherished them, he was annoyed by their presence.

On that night they were undeniably a hindrance.

He grimaced in self-loathing when he thought he wanted the girls gone immediately.

_You selfish bastard! Only God knows how fucking much she needs this night with them and all you can think of is yourself!_

Chris massaged the back of his neck and sighed, reclining his head back to rest his nape on his fingers. His muscles were stiff and tense and that little massage gave him some relief.

Nonetheless, his frown deepened.

But his scowl couldn't last much long, for as soon as he heard Claire's joyful, crystalline voice, a soft smile bloomed on his face and forced his eyebrows to unwind.

She was just on the other side of the narrow wooden wall that separated his room from her closet. Putting his white undershirt on, he sat on the edge of his desk and listened. She sounded so happy and bright!

Chris, instead, he was feeling blue under his olive skin.

It was something indefinite, formless, whose outline eluded his mind but whose presence he could feel dense, constant and… grey.

_Disquietude_ had caught him at first when he had come back from his run to a crowded home; then in the bathroom, when the chance that his sister would replicate Monday's imprudence made his heart race in fear; lastly, in the closet when by a chance Jill and Becky hadn't caught him wholly naked compelling him to invent a hasty lie to justify his nude presence.

The risk of being caught was a constant in his life lately and it had raised incredibly on a night that was no exception to the rule. And he felt every ounce of it. It was a little weight pressing on his chest, making him feel halfway between slightly fatigued and sombre.

Even though, on second thought, as long as he'd have kept his hands off her sister's most intimate body parts he had nothing to actually fear. How could anybody suspect such a thing?

Nevertheless, he felt uneasy, he was on alert. His guilty conscience feared that a too intense gaze, a too enamoured smile, a too carnal caress would've revealed everyone their secret.

Foolish.

For weeks and weeks they had been only plunging into the chasms of a psyche strained by the grievous tragedy then and by the degenerated affection now. Notwithstanding the worst apparently seemed to be gone, none of them had missed to notice how the other was still suffering somehow.

On the last tempestuous Halloween, for example, the attentive and heedful Chris didn't miss how his sister, while having dinner, stiffened and was in a cold sweat anytime thunders and lightnings – so similar to the lab's explosion – made her jump on her seat. To comfort her and ease the noticeable trembling of the flatware she held, an undercover caress on her thigh was all he could momentarily do. At least until she'd begged him to fuck her hard against the bathroom wall later in the night.

Nor did Claire fail to keep an eye on him as well.

More than once she had met a just waken Chris in the morning with the sunken, dark-circled eyes of whom had "slept" a tormented slumber. He had confessed her – even if she feared he had overly sugared the pill – that he still had some tremendous nightmares that would make him wake up drenched in sweat and panting, just like he had suffered during the switched time. As if no shit had been fixed at all. The scariest the bad dream, the fastest he'd text her to meet downstairs, the roughest he'd screw her, seeking solace. Nocturnal sex was the best way to postpone the inevitable reunion with his inner demons as much as possible and sedate them a little.

For the Redfield siblings, sex had become a palliative without which they couldn't stand the weight of all the past torments, whose remembrance was still so vivid in their minds.

But there was something else, beyond all of this, that worried his mind. It was something his heart plainly knew by then but that he hadn't still put into words. And certainly he didn't expect that such a simple yet tremendous truth would disclose to him so banally. Simply by listening to _her_ laughter through a wall.

He was in love with Claire. Madly. Immutably.

He loved her with every shred of his flesh, every drop of his blood. He loved her of that heart-wrenching love that hurts and heals and kills and nurses and tears. In his misery, she was all he needed.

He stood up from the desk and walked to his drawer to pick some sweatpants, mulling over that sudden revelation. Pure blatancy, yet sensational.

_Love_. When Cupid shoots his arrows he's not one for subtlety, but on that time that winged little brat must've been on some acid trip when he stopped at Redfields as he had made a brother fall in love with the bloody blood of his blood!

But _Love has its reasons that Reason knows not_, a poet once said. And there were absolutely no reasons for him not to love her, for the only real barrier that could prevent their siblings' love to become erotic had been destroyed almost a week before.

His love had changed. And it now was the most fulfilling emotion he had ever experienced. He loved her, heart, soul and body. She made him feel complete. Irrelevant was that he wasn't loving her as a brother anymore. Then again, that worry didn't even cross his mind. To him, what he felt and had just figured out, was the most natural of feelings. Something it couldn't not be.

He couldn't not be totally hers.

A knock at the door broke the enchantment, but not the raptured gaze on his face. The door opened a little and Claire poked her head in. "Hey, we're ready to get started!"

"I'll be right there." Chris replied. _I love you. _

"You alright?" she whispered, getting suspicious by the contrast of his look to his sweetest smile. She feared he felt compelled to stay with her and the girls just to please her and their mother.

"Yes." _I love you._

"You sure?" she questioned, with an eyebrow quirked in concern.

"Yeah!" he giggled, smiling warmly. _I love you!_

"Ok, then… we'll be waiting downstairs. Just… you just make sure to don't forget to wear them, ok?" she sassily winked, pointing at the sweatpants he held.

"No shit! I don't want to be raped!" he joked, hurrying to put his pants on. "Ashley kinda scares me."

Claire sent him a quick kiss and closed the door.

Chris's smile beamed lonely in an empty bedroom.

Yes, he had fell – throat deep – in love.

He loved her, he craved her, yet he wasn't supposed to satisfy his longing nor his relief-hunger on that night. But maybe… _maybe_ not everything was lost. Claire might've had the goodtime she deserved. After all, above his own needs and worries, he wanted her to be happy. But who ever said he couldn't be as well?

Walking fast under the invisible lightbulb that had lighted up over his head, he grabbed his phone from his nightstand and texted his friends on their "_Buddies Of Wine_" group chat. Maybe one of them would come over and help him deal with all those girly hormones in the air.

_Chris Redfield's not gonna fight this war alone!_

* * *

"Kids, me and Lily are leaving." Robert said appearing at the bottom of the staircase while Chris hopped down the steps. "We'll be home pretty late as the show we chose won't start before ten o'clock so..."

"Have fun, see you later!" Chris smiled.

"I rely on you, son." Robert stated planting his dark blue eyes right in his firstborn's ones. "I know they're too grown up for a babysitter but…"

"Don't worry, Dad." Chris nodded. "I'll look after them while pretending to be housesitting. They won't notice!"

Robert chuckled and shook his head.

"Hey! I can multitask!" Chris ironically protested.

"Never doubted it for a single moment, son." Robert cooed. "I was just wondering who of us got the worst plans for the night." He scoffed winking towards the crowded living room, making sure to talk enough low not to be heard by his wife.

"Let me guess…" Chris smirked. "Vintage black and white mute dramatic shit?"

"Yeah…" his father sighed. "Total garbage by _mitteleuropean_ intellectuals. But your mother loves it, so…"

Chris chuckled and patted his Dad's shoulder in encouragement while accompanying him to the garage door. Maybe his own night wasn't that bad after all.

* * *

**Part ****4 – Harem**

It was 8 p.m., they were all gathered in the living room, ready for the sleepover. The two sofas had been moved a bit to make it easier for everyone to watch the tv. The food had been arranged over the black glass round coffee table, soft blankets were spread over the carpet and pillows were scattered all around. It only remained to pick a good movie to watch.

"Oh yes! Yes please! _Freaky Friday_!" Rebecca hollered from the two-seater sofa she shared with Sheva, as Chris was scrolling down the movie gallery.

"Hell no, Becky!" Jill snorted from the other bigger sofa, outstretched next to Claire. "Not another time! We've watched it like fourteen times!"

"I'm with Jill!" Sheva admitted, raising a hand.

"But it's fun! Please!" Rebecca begged.

"Freaky Friday is such a stupid movie!" Ashley argued from the armchair, crossing her feet upon the bordeaux pouffe.

"Say that again, Graham!" Rebecca threateningly riposted.

"Girls!" Chris said, clearing his throat from the big blanket he was laying on before the three-seater sofa, feeling the responsibility to stop any quarrel before they'd be at daggers drawn. Unfortunately, his knowledge about girlish movies stopped at the Disney's princesses classics his sister used to watch when she was a child. "The hell is Freaky Friday?"

"It's a masterpi-" Rebecca tried to explain.

"Mother and daughter switch bodies, Chris." Claire quickly said from behind him, resting her warm hand on his shoulder. "Just that."

The siblings exchanged a quirky look. "Does a movie about that even exist?!" he lowly gushed and turning to Rebecca he apologised "Sorry, Becky. The plot sounds silly and lame." _No way I'm watching a movie about my life!_

Taking advantage of _apparently_ having Chris against Rebecca, Ashley peeled off the comfy backrest of the armchair in which she had dipped into and uttered "I suggest _Mean Girls_!"

"Haven't we got plenty of them tonig- _ouch_!" Chris sassed or, at least, he tried to as Claire slapped his nape from behind to shut him the fuck up.

"_The Princess Diaries_, girls." Jill proposed. "It's a classic and we haven't watched it in a year or so."

Thankfully her linear reasoning seemed to content everyone. Even Chris, but only because he couldn't bear any more of that catfight – oh, and because he had no clue the plot was even sillier than Freaky Friday.

"So y'all ok with that?" Chris asked, eying each one of the girls as he was the one holding the remote.

Everyone nodded.

"To me they're all trash the same, dude! I'm here for the food." Moira replied at Chris's questioning look he addressed her from her side, as they shared the same blanket on the floor. "But it's still better than Freaky Friday."

Finally, the movie began. Claire had adjusted a pillow behind Chris' neck so he could rest his head on it. Every now and then she'd lean on it and pecked at the crown of his head or streamed her fingers through his hair or just caressed his bearded cheeks, while he would play her with tapas and other delights she'd just eat from the same pair of chopsticks they shared or straight from his fingers.

"Remind me to manicure you tomorrow." She said, kissing his ear.

"Yeah. I totally need one." He agreed, accurately scanning his fingertips and obtaining a swirl of head turning towards them in incredulity.

_Chris Redfield gets a manicure?!__ Since when?! Can he be any hotter?!_ That was – more or less – what everyone thought. He had just given them another vision of him to drool for… he'd be the perfect boyfriend for sure!

He smiled and tilted his head back to kiss her under her chin. In spite of all his previous anxiety about drawing unwanted attention to their intimacy, now he felt better. Claire was literally covering him with affectionate cares and not a single eyebrow was quirking in suspect! He could afford to return her as more love as he could then. Yeah, that night was bad at all!

It was such a tender vision: two siblings being loving and affectionate to each other – maybe a bit too much but still it was lovely. So lovely and enthralling that it gained many envious looks by the other girls. Well, basically _two_.

Ashley often peeked at them, shaking her head to such a waste: the only girl who hadn't a crush on Chris and had no reasons to seek his attentions, was the only one allowed to touch him, hug him, kiss him on the cheeks and the only one to actually _get_ his cares. Or looks. She'd have given anything to be that girl now.

Jill as well would think quite the same. She looked intensely at that brawny body outstretched on the ground, at the muscular arms crossed on his wide chest, at every single movement of his hand picking food to bring it to his sexy lips.

If Ashley envied Claire, then Jill was envying those surimi so bad!

Chris could feel the repeated looks from Ashley while she talked but ignored them systematically. He had caught Jill peeking at him too but he didn't mind that – it was Ashley the annoying one. Jill would just glance, enjoy the sight, suppress a sigh and continue her doing without making it obvious.

The only glances he was oblivious of were Rebecca's.

The girl, with the precision of a Japanese train and the discretion of a secret agent, kept an eye on him all the time from the perfect overview she had of her human specimens: Chris on the ground, Jill on the sofa behind him, Ashley on the armchair by his left.

Rebeck had smartly taken seat on the two-seater sofa, right next to Sheva, also because she hoped Chris would've sat on the other one… if not _purposefully_ between Jill and Claire, at least _accidentally_ next to_... his secret Valentine_! Oh, Chris choosing to sit next to Jill would've been such a hard evidence! The smoking gun she sought for her theory! Unfortunately, so far she hadn't been much lucky. The _apple of discord_ had sat on the blanket, equidistant from the contenders, and the only two people he was interacting were only Claire and Moira.

_Lesbian_ and _sister_.

Her investigation was deadlocked. But the night was still young and Rebeck Holmes full of resources.

After a while, no one was paying much attention to the movie anymore as the girls were all busy gossiping about... everything. That is to say mostly boys, couples, other girls, fashion, actors, girly things and oh-my-God-have-you-heard-that. Not a single one of these topics could've even slightly interested Chris, at all. He was silent, still on the ground, focused on scooping out the Lily's nachos bowl along with Moira. The tomboy. His favourite teacher's daughter. His alley against the girly forces of teenage fangirls.

When he had enough of being half laid on those blankets he just stretched his arms over the head and curved his back to give some relief to his sore spine, regretting it in the making as he heard Ashley fall silent mid-sentence.

_C'mon girl! As if you'd never seen a man before! _

Rolling his eyes, he stood up and took a seat between Jill and Claire, throwing an arm around each girl's shoulders. "Ponytail, Bob, I'll keep your necks warm if you'll feed me. Deal?" he laughed, sneering at his recently gained knowledge of female hairstyles names.

"Deal." Claire agreed, shoving a tapas into his greedy mouth.

_Score to Jill! _Becky thought but her contentment didn't last long as, whilst the now-pretty princess on screen underwent a massive dose of aesthetic treatment, the doorbell rang.

"Who is it?" Claire wondered raising a brow at her brother. It was almost ten o'clock and she wasn't expecting anybody else to come.

"Oh, I called for back-up reinforcements!" Chris eagerly giggled while gambolling to the front door.

* * *

**You see? I haven't forgot about my Incestfield! _Bad Romance_ might still be going but… I can multitask too! **

**Even though it might seem the opposite... I'm fond of teenage movies. Otherwise, I wouldn't be writing this story XD _this is escapism at his best._**

**Sorry for the B.O.W. group chat name, but I love Easter eggs [someone at Capcom – which holds all the copyrights bla bla bla – is really proud of their little _eggs-scattering_ fangirl].**

**See you ****in (about) seven (maybe ten) days for part 2 of 3!**


	20. Freaky Friday (2 of 3)

**So, we left our girls (and boy) in the middle of a sleepover, just a second later "someone" knocked at the door. In regular Resident Evil universes, nothing good happens when B.O.W.s are involved, would this alternate one be any different?**

* * *

**Chapter 18 – Freaky Friday (2 of 3)**

* * *

**Part 5 – Spin the bottle**

Chris threw both door and arms open to gladly welcome whoever had rung the bell, let it be his best friend or a random pony express, impatiently desirous to not being the only male anymore.

A beam that had been missing for a while on his face reached top width as he saw that the _whole_ pack had shown up! Chris was almost moved.

_My brothers in arms!_

And they couldn't escape his arms, actually, for Chris grinded them all in his heft embraces. As soon as Carlos, Piers, Leon and Kevin got rid of the Redfield's eager welcoming hugs and pats, they appeared in the living room waving at the girls. Carlos, with much of his shock, soon found himself having to face a squeaking and running Sheva who threw herself on him and kissed him as if he had just returned from a decade long war.

"Hello everyone!" Kevin and Leon said, bypassing the sultry couple.

"Ladies." Piers politely winked. "Oh, _The Princess Diaries_! Man, I love that movie!" and he simply rushed in front of the tv and welcomed himself on a pillow crossing his legs.

"Yes, Becky, I've seen him!" Jill grunted under her breath for the repeated nudges the girl gave her as she had suddenly become unable to speak at Leon's sight.

The poor Rebecca wasn't really expecting for such a twist. Until that moment, that evening was to her a top-secret investigation disguised as a party, but as soon as her eyes fell on the "illegally gorgeous" frame of Kennedy, her focus and willpower got blown away.

But Rebecca wasn't the only one to perceive that the plans for the night were kinda screwed. As the guys suggestively swayed in the air the two whole big bottles of tequila they had brought along with some limes in a plastic bag, it was clear for everyone that the sleepover was going to take a whole different direction than expected.

"Ok, girls. The boys are in the house and ready to light up this partaaaayyy!" Carlos announced, once freed from his octopus of a girlfriend.

* * *

They adjusted blankets and pillows to make room for the newly arrived and collected all the empty food boxes to put them on the low white counter below the wall hanging tv, clearing the coffee table.

"Why are you girls having sushi _and_ Spanish food?" Kevin sneered, helping to put away some trays.

"It's a long story." Jill chuckled.

"Let's just say we're having a_… Jap-nish_ dinner." Rebecca joked, as fond as she was of portmanteaux.

"Japnish, uh?" Carlos mumbled, massaging his chin.

"Carlos, don't." Piers warned, aware that a mumbling Carlos could only mean... lame joke coming.

"Yeah, Japnish sounds good." Carlos continued, smirking in slyness. "But do you know what other ethnical mash-up is even better?"

"Don't you dare say it!" Piers shrieked, grasping the nearest pillow to throw at him.

"_Spapanese_!" Carlos shouted and laughed hard at everyone's facepalm. Many other pillows were thrown to punish that horrid joke but uselessly as he kept laughing convinced that his was a real knee-slapper.

"Claire, would you help me taking these to the trashcan please?" Chris asked trying to ignore the stupidity that pastured unperturbed in his living room. "We have to take also some shot glasses and cut the limes."

"Sure thing!" she said and followed him to the kitchen.

"So, Chris, our sleepover is turning into a drinking party?" Claire asked once they were alone by the kitchen island.

He didn't reply but took her by her wrist and tugged her through the walk-in pantry door, closing it carefully. Before she could even ask why, he clashed his lips on hers, sucking in her gasp of surprise.

"Chris... honey..." She muttered, struggling to free her mouth from his sudden impetus of lust. But all her efforts were useless as he kept grinding her body with his ravenous hands and overhanging her with his massive stature. "Chris… the guys… are just in the other room... and this is not the bathroom!"

"I know, Claire." He huffed, calming his fire and glancing at the see-through jalousie door and its several crooks – the kitchen was still desert, thankfully. "I just wanted to kiss you a bit... I couldn't hold back anymore."

"What did you jerk off for then?" she lasciviously joked, grazing his lips with her amused smirk.

"Dunno. I already want you again." He whispered, under gleaming eyes.

"Guess you'll have to wait until tomorrow baby..." she purred.

* * *

Gathered in a wide circle and all scattered over pillows, sofas, armchair and a pouffe, they had settled to play a drinking game. The rules were pretty simple: an empty bottle would spin in the middle, the chosen one would decide whether tell the truth about a question made by the spinner or drink one shot, and then spin the bottle for the next chosen one, and so on.

In the turn of less than one hour, they were all pretty tipsy. Even the boys.

This time it wasn't just beer or wine, like at Carlos' birthday party, but it was tequila and it had a high alcohol content, making even the highly tolerant Chris pretty squiffy.

They all guffawed at the silly revelations that game was making them admit and getting even more drunk when they didn't want to answer.

"Ok, guys..." Kevin stated at some point, rising from his pillow "now it's time to upgrade this game! The new rules are: you spin the bottle and decide whether to kiss the chosen one or to drink instead."

"_Drink or Kiss_, Kevin." Piers huffed out. "It's called just drink or kiss. It's that short and simple."

"Drink or Kiss, everybody!" Kevin shouted and clapped his hands in excitement.

"But this way I may risk kissing your ass face!" Carlos shouted laughing hard and nudging at him.

"That means you will just get even more wasted, _chico_." Kevin bluntly shrugged.

They were all too tipsy to advance any objection. So the game began.

The first to spin the bottle was Kevin himself and he grimaced in disappointment when the bottle stopped at Sheva. Carlos's girl. _De facto_ out of the games for every boy.

"Guess I'll have to drink..." he sighed, headshaking.

Once he had downed his shot, Sheva spun the bottle and laughed embarrassed when it stopped pointing at Jill.

The two laughing girls exchanged embarrassed looks before Carlos intervened, raising his hands to the sky like a gospel singer. "Sheva, darling... do what you have to. Don't you worry 'bout me, babe."

He was too eager to see his girlfriend kissing another girl that he almost picked his phone to record it for... future usage. "Wouldn't you get drunk this early in the night, would ya?" he coaxed.

Sheva shrugged and, leaning onto the two adjacent sofas armrests, she stretched her neck to kiss Jill. When their lips met, the whole room simply went nuts. Carlos was clapping like a proud daddy at his son's first school recital and even stood up almost moved. The two girls, on their sides, blurted out in a loud laughter even before breaking the kiss.

When the whoops and hollers finally quieted, it was Jill's turn to spin. As the bottle was decelerating its spinning, it was getting quite obvious _who_ the chosen one was going to be.

And the common expectation wasn't failed. In fact, the empty bottle stopped pointing straight at Chris.

Like in a spaghetti western movie, a sudden swirl of looks started.

Chris eyed Claire who winked at him then beckoned to Jill who was rather staring at the carpet, Sheva silently awed at jaw-dropped Ashely who glared at everyone at loss for words while Rebecca glanced at Leon who looked stupidly innocent as always.

In that common meaningful staring, Claire kept nodding at her brother silently and widely. Chris licked his lips in confusion.

He had drunk a bit too much, but he knew he was too sober to start hallucinating! He couldn't be wrong! The more carefully he looked the more obvious it was: Claire was _begging_ him to kiss her friend for real! And to do it i-in f-front o-of her?!

_What the hell, Claire?_

That situation was taking an absurd detour. The stupid game had barely just started and he was already done with it! He cursed himself for having let it even happen.

_Drink or kiss?! Seriously, Chris? What were you thinking?_

Unfortunately, it wasn't _his_ choice as the spinner was Jill herself.

"Pour me a drink, please." Jill ordered to Kevin – the bottle holder – reaching out to grab her glass.

"NO!" a tipsy Claire screamed, raising her palms to stop any attempt in filling her friend's glass. "You won't drink! You will kiss this time!" she bleated and her accusing forefinger repeatedly prodded at Jill's collarbone, like a pickaxe. "You already drank too much in this game, Jill!"

"Claire, it's her choice!" Ashley squealed in protest.

Claire rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance, noisily sighing at the predictable complaint.

"If Jill said she wants to drink then she'll have her shot!" Ashley insisted.

"Shut up, Ash! It's not your turn!" Rebecca animatedly intervened, too excited for the incredible chance happening.

"I chose to drink." Jill said, a bit ashamed of that embarrassing situation her friends were causing.

Chris observed the trio's quarrel in silence and, as fast as the buzz allowed him, he began to figure out the reason behind Claire's detestable request: the rising blush on Jill's cheeks and her fleeting gaze, the unmatched fierceness in which Ashley attempted to "defend" Jill's "freedom as a woman", the expectant glimmer in Rebecca's green eyes and the unremovable malice in his sister's grin, it all suggested there was some kinda unresolved shit going on. And he knew pretty well what it was all about.

Claire wanted that kiss to happen so much so she finally could get Ashley to pay for all her usual shady provocations at Jill and her well known crush on her brother.

He didn't feel like frowning and angering out on her lack of jealousy – especially not in front of everybody – but he couldn't help considering it inappropriate. If she thought it was alright to kiss others, then was she going to carelessly do it with someone else in front of him? She better knew he wouldn't take it easy at all! The mere thought of such an occurrence made his teeth grit in jealousy.

Chris would've never even _dreamed_ of kissing any other girl, not even for a game, let alone right in front of her! But she… what was she doing?! She incited him to kiss Jill and to do it without hesitation! He couldn't deny himself it hurt.

_Christ_! He loved her to death, he'd have even kicked everyone out of their house only to have the tiniest peck from her in intimacy and, even if he'd guessed the reasons behind her unwelcome behaviour – and secretly shared the same wish to give a lesson to that little bitch of Graham –, he couldn't stand to be treated like that.

A kisser at her service!

The siblings' looks met again and his must've been pretty forlorn as he saw Claire's eyes tinge with a shade of doubt and hesitation. She had realized she'd pushed it too much. She silently apologized with a concerned quirk of her eyebrows and stretched a faint smile at him.

Yes, she had definitely understood. And this relented his chagrin a little as, accordingly, maybe – _maybe_ – there was a tiny, microscopic chance that deep inside Claire wasn't that much "alright" with him kissing Jill, but she was doing it just for her friend's happiness... and for unforgiving revenge. Still, he'd have appreciated a little more consideration.

Anyway, something must've made him make up his mind, otherwise he'd have never said what he said then and he'd have respected the girl's choice instead.

"Jill, you can spare a drink this time, you already drank a lot." Chris said, adjusting himself upon the pillows, and stared intensely at the girl. "It's just a game."

"What about I just want to drink instead?" Jill snapped, staring back, determined to get out of that shitty situation as soon as possible.

"What if I want you to kiss instead?" He reposted, obtaining more than one to whistle in awe and disbelief to such cocky answer.

He didn't give a shit if it sounded racy. He didn't even care the effect it had on Jill, nor Ashley nor any fucking other in that room but Claire.

He wanted his sister to know he was disposed to make out with every girl in that house to assert that he could be just as careless as her! He wanted to provoke her jealousy – if she ever had the tiniest shred of it. After all, he reckoned his drunk sister wouldn't have given second thoughts about clashing her lips on anyone the fucking bottle elected, thus why should he worry that much?

Without breaking his stare, he stood up from the ground and walked towards the gorgeous Valentine, squishing pillows and crackling discarded chips in his path. And that was the sign his sister was waiting for. Claire grinned for ear to ear, her brother would never disappoint her!

Chris knelt on the sofa, sitting a knee between Jill's legs and leaned down. He took her face in his hands, rising it enough to meet his own gaze and got closer, curving his toned back slowly but purposefully. He side-glanced at his sister, who was sitting on Jill's same sofa. She still seemed pretty desirous to observe what was going to happen. Her luscious grin, though dumbed by the booze, gave him the umpteenth confirmation of her determination – unluckily for him though, as he wished there was a ginger head in his hands instead.

_Why should I care when she doesn't?_

Not even doing it for spite helped him. But he wouldn't withdraw. Chances were Claire would've gotten either aroused or jealous by the show of her b-… her b-… of _him_ kissing Jill. He hoped for the second but prepared for the first.

_It's just a kiss... just a kiss. Claire's fine with it. I'm as well._

That's the lie he told himself to sedate the regret rising in his chest. Unawares, his inward hesitation was only making the show last long enough to be actually effective on Ashley, the official addressee of that show. If he was dubious on the inside, outside he looked fucking hot!

He turned to Jill again.

Notwithstanding all her efforts to keep a neutral face, her parted lips were shaking in both anticipation and jitters. Kissing Chris was ridiculous! And in front of all those people! And Claire! Someone must've put something in her drinks and it was only a mirage! Her gorgeous grey eyes were stuck on him, glimmering bright and shy between his thumbs.

In his hands Jill was something.

A Vermeer's girl who needed no big pearl earrings to catch a boy's attention. And now that he was just a mere inch far from kissing her, Chris wasn't feeling that cocky anymore. Bitter feelings took a hold of his bowels.

_Redfield, who do you think you're faking out? You're no Nivans. A kiss means a lot to you! _

He thumbed her cheekbone to buy some time, unintentionally giving her the time to try to relax and enjoy the kiss to come as well. He could feel her heartbeats madden under his touch.

Out of the blue, he felt an idiot.

What was he doing? Using a girl to assert his hurt pride over his lover? What had she to do with all the jealousy related issues between him and Claire? What had Jill done to deserve such a poor treatment?

Out of the blue, he cared. Tequila had taken a hold of his brain but not of his heart who still beat youthful and loyal.

_Make it be special. For Jill. She deserves it that way._

He slightly bent his head aside and finally pressed his lips on hers to kiss her, raking his fingers through the short hair on her neck.

Jill could feel her skin burn, both for the alcohol and the excitement. Her heart melted and shattered in her ribcage, she couldn't help but closing her eyes and start kissing him back. The rest of the room had faded away from her sight in that moment. There were only her and Chris. She felt him so close and warm, with a touch so soft it almost fused with her skin. Her world had the scent and the taste of the hottest lips she'd ever kissed.

She was on the verge of coming off. She couldn't believe Chris Redfield was kissing her, she couldn't believe those were the same lips she had secretly longed for so much time. If Heaven had a taste it'd be Chris's tequila breath for sure, if it had a consistency then it was his tongue's virile muscularity.

Chris had the consideration to put as much passion as he could into that long, incredibly long kiss. Scruples be damned though, he couldn't curb his frustration. The more he felt uncomfortable for his behaviour the more the kiss would deepen and overheat the air around them.

He eventually parted the kiss and, still holding her he whispered, humid breath chilling her hot lips "you ok?"

"Y-yeah..." she muttered.

Chris answered the wide beam that Jill couldn't get to curb with a forced smile. He pulled her head into his muscled chest and caressed her nape, tousling a bit her short brown hair. Guilt was stabbing his heart. Jill seemed so happy and thrilled for a kiss that… had meant nothing to him. He had felt nothing but a sense of… disquietude. Again his old friend had returned to torture him.

Chris took a deep breath, filling his lungs as most as he could and as most secretly as he could, then turned to Claire and forced a wink in complicity at her grinning face. She was rubbing her hands in victory.

Chris was disappointed. Mostly by himself.

He had hoped to provoke Claire's jealousy somehow and he had failed. He then had hoped to at least enjoy a kiss with such a gorgeous girl like Jill and he had failed as well. The only ones he hadn't failed were Claire, Jill and their expectations, but only because the first had gotten what she wanted and the second ignored he'd used her.

He mentally sneered at his misery as never ever he had imagined he'd someday rather wished to kiss Piers instead of any other girl who wasn't his sister!

Claire smiled at Jill's face, barely visible in that huge bulk of muscles that enveloped her head, who coyly smiled back. Claire then looked down her nose at Ashley, who was gritting her teeth in anger on the armchair. All her bitchy manners towards Jill had been avenged with a mere kiss. At least, from that moment on, every haughty sideswipe from Ashley would be easily overcome by reminding her of that simple beautiful kiss on the lips _she and only she_ just got.

As soon as Chris's guilt relented a little, he let go of the brunette's head he held so tight yet so softly. With Jill's taste still on his lips, he sat back onto his pillow. The tamed lion had once again behaved obediently. No whips needed.

* * *

It was time for Chris to spin the bottle now. He spun it, laughing hard at his friends' complaints for having put too much force in it. The bottle took its time to stop. And it stopped in a _very _critical position.

It was pointing at Claire.

Chris wasn't drunk enough to just shrug, seize the day and jump on her to kiss her in front of their friends like he had done to Jill. He knew he couldn't but he wanted it so bad that he just stood there, sitting cross-legged on his pillow, staring at the bottle, trying to find the strength to resist the keen temptation. He shifted his look at Claire and stared with hot damn desire burning in his eyes. She was staring back at him, squinting a little for her drunkenness.

"You really pondering that, man?" Carlos asked quirking his brows.

Chris slyly smirked at his friend. "Why? Wouldn't you?"

Carlos was too drunk to think about a good answer. If he said _yes_ he was sure Chris would have punched him in the face for having thought about kissing his sister, if he said _no_... he would have punched him the same for not considering his sister desirable and _smoochable_. Not to mention Sheva's reaction!

"Uh... err... well... Claire's not my sister... so... Uu-uuuh..." Carlos stuttered, the collar of his shirt suddenly becoming too tight and suffocating.

Chris burst out laughing at the palpable embarrassment of his friend and reached out towards the coffee table to pour himself some tequila but the sight of his sister staggering to her feet from the opposite sofa to snatch the liquor bottle away from the tabletop, curdled his blood. Except for his heart bumping in his ears, there wasn't the slightest noise in the suddenly quiet living room. Everyone waited with bated breath to figure out what precisely the girl had in mind.

Chris saw her approach and place her hands upon his shoulder as she leaned down. His face would've soon turned cyanotic if he kept holding his breath like that, but he was too frightened to even realize he had kept his arm tilted all along.

If she kissed him, he'd have had to turn her down, turn his face away from her, risking she… oh, God what could've ever been her reaction? How could he predict what would cross a drunken Claire's mind? What if she made a scene? Or worse… what if she bleated out the truth? He could already picture himself stuttering nonsensical lies to justify such a move. He gulped a gasp back thinking _her_ reaction wasn't the only one to fear. Would he have even been strong enough to actually turn her down? Or would he just tumble down under her lips like he always did since their very first kiss?

Claire bowed down until she was just a whisper away from his head. She held it, caressing his ears and thumbing his cheekbones, softly tilting his face upwards.

"C-Claire…" he muttered under his narrow breath and gasped in both surprise and relief as he felt his sister's lips press moist and full on his forehead.

The tense hype dissipated and only Carlos felt compelled to moan his disappointment out for the failed incestuous kiss.

Chris finally relaxed his muscles and even chuckled his relief out. Unconcerned by all the bad jokes that stirred in the crowded room, Claire knelt – more likely collapsed on her knees – between his legs, never letting go of his head and, taking advantage of the chaos of flying cushions Carlos's prattle caused, she brushed his mouth with hers. Unnoticed, quick, light peck but the bliss it elicited in his chest lingered over his raptured face and shut eyes. Slightly panting to catch the air she'd stolen from his lungs, Chris made his sister turn and sit between his thighs, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. She rested her nape on his shoulder and he could've died of love.

"Thank you." He whispered, barely audible in the noisy racket that had blasted in the room.

"You're welcome, baby." She chuckled. "But I fear my kiss doesn't count. You gotta drink!" Claire laughed along with him and lastly, sighed in his ear. "I hope this makes up for the Jill thing. I'm sorry for that."

Chris tightened his hold around her as long as the sense of relief did the same within him. "Nevermind. It meant nothing."

* * *

Claire was feeling dopey and embarrassed at the same time. Damn! That was a situation even worse than Chris's! She had spun the damn bottle and the glassy bitch was pointing mean and unequivocally at Leon.

She _had to_ drink.

She had to for Chris but most importantly for Rebecca. Kissing Leon right in front of her… after what she'd told her in the school's hallway… that was out of question! Chris might have gulped it down – if she'd ever make it to get rid of his blocking grip to stand up and go kissing Leon – but Rebecca would've suffered too much. Moreover, who assured her that Leon's reaction wouldn't betray some sort of interest and inner feelings? Her little white lie about his crush being over would've been unmasked!

The total lack of apparent reaction from Chris, somehow suggested her he was only controlling his irritation. He just kept hugging her from behind but she sensed he was growing nervous. Claire wondered whether Chris would've even let her stand up if she opted for kissing their blond friend.

To make things even worse, she had drunk more than she usually allowed herself and she felt too close to the limit to down another shot without much ponderation. Thankfully, Kevin unawares bought her some time.

"So, we're all gathered here in loving memory of our beloved friend, Leon _Shithead_ Kennedy…" Kevin started, faking a rueful compunction and gesturing like a preacher on a funeral, despite all the amused laughs that rose around him. "…a friend, a brother, a terrible driver who found his death… on a tragic, fatal I dare say, Drink or Kiss..."

Leon looked down, chuckling and shaking his head, and took a sip. Among the young crowd, he was the only one that drank no matter it was his turn or not. Even that occasional drunkard of Piers stuck to the game's rules more than him.

Kevin's funny speech slowly faded into an indistinct buzzing, far and muffled, as Leon preferred to focus on his inner train of thoughts.

Hadn't Chris been there, he'd have already kissed Claire by himself. Bottle or not. This time she couldn't upset. It was a game. It was ok. Wasn't it?

Leon dared a side glance at Chris who was sitting across him by the other side of the circle and had flames shot in his eyes.

And. He. Was. Staring. At. Him.

Chris's gaze was so grave and forbidding that for the long moment Leon got to hold it, he didn't recognize his friend in it. It was tinged with the austere confidence of who implicitly warned you to lie low as it was his house and he would kick your ass up to the street. Whilst Claire laughed along the others at the funny gag Ryman had put up, Chris was the only one not laughing, not looking at the fake preacher and lame comedian, not having a good time. He just stared at Leon while nuzzling the curve of Claire's neck with his stubbled chin.

Possession. Ire. Menace.

Leon averted his eyes and pretended to listen to the stupid speech.

That stupid kiss on the veranda was still hunting him after all that time. Chris would've never really forgiven him that move, notwithstanding all the friendly words he had spelled at the firing range. He had been so sympathetic back there, but there already was in his dark eyes that sparkle of jealousy that now had blasted into an infernal mania of possession. "_Don't you try even thinking of making a move on my sister ever again_". Those had, more or less, been his words and now they ringed in Leon's mind like bullets shot into metal pipes. Back then it had sounded just the usual Chris and his famous brotherly jealousy, but now… now it had a whole creepier sound.

How come he had become so possessive of her? His sister was untouchable even in a game. The same fucking game he had recommended Jill not to care much about only a few minutes before! Why shouldn't it be "_just a game"_ even when it came to Claire?!

Leon took another long sip.

He hadn't been recognizing his friend a bit too often lately. He had seen that same dark sparkle of possession darken his gaze many times when, sitting at the school cafeteria for lunch, Leon had caught him checking his sister in the distance. What was he so scared of? That a random dude would kidnap her or rape her in front of anyone? Or that she could meet someone? Maybe the love of her life had already been "friendly warned" not to approach her. Leon scoffed inwardly. He didn't know why his friend was such a douchebag of a brother and surely he was too drunk to figure it out on that night, but he was damn sure Chris wouldn't let him or anyone else get close to Claire. And he wouldn't even realize how he would end up hurting her that way.

"...May you rest in peace, Leon. Go teach angels how to straighten and bleach hair locks." Kevin concluded.

"Tequila! Tequila!" Claire yelled, swaying her empty glass in the air. "I don't want anyone on my conscience!"

Claire sassily dedicated the shot to Leon with a look pregnant of understanding whom he replied to with a brief and compliant wave of his head.

Everyone in the room believed she had chosen to drink to spare him a potential hard time with a bombed Chris, just as her words hinted at, and they all laughed amused about it. Leon, instead, knew the real reason. A truth even more bitter and burning than the liquor he had just gulped down. Claire chose to drink because she didn't want to kiss him. It was _that simple and short. _The strain in which she downed that sixth or seventh shot confirmed it. She had enough of drinks but still it was better than kissing him. Leon joined the festive choir of hollers when the red-haired slammed the empty glass on the black coffee table, but inside his mood was even darker than the tabletop.

Maybe it was better so, he thought. He wasn't sure he wanted a kiss from her, after all. Not a fake, drunken, convenient kiss. Maybe a kiss given only to get her brother pissed in front of their friends! Certainly, such a kiss wouldn't have done any good to the already terrible memory he had of her lips – or at least of that micro-fraction of a second during which he had managed to brush her mouth before the fury. Terrible memory, yet indelible and full of longing.

He downed another sip. Fuck the game.

"LEON!" the irritating blondie in golden bangs reproached with her usual hair-raising high pitch squeal. "You have to spin _before_ drinking!"

"Right, right." He apologised and did his job, mentally crossing his fingers for the bottle not to stop before any Redfield.

"WOOOOOOAH! YEEE-HAAAA!" Claire screamed, exulting and spinning a pillow over her and Chris's heads like a cowboy hat in a rodeo as soon as it was clear who the Wise Bottle had elected that time. It stopped at the short-haired girl. Shorter haired than Jill, longer than Moira… in other words, Rebecca.

As well as all the others, Leon looked at the girl who, apparently, hadn't wholly figured out what had occurred yet and who showed not even the slightest reaction. The oblivious Rebecca muzzily giggled without taking note that the bottle had stopped moving and – fearsome! – it pointed at her.

_Rebecca_… Leon only knew her by sight. He knew she was one of Claire's besties but that night was the first time they shared a party and… nothing more as they still hadn't shared a single word. She was really easy on the eyes but, at the same time, she must've been a pretty shy chick as more than once he had caught her staring at him during the games and, every time he did so, she'd just hide a bit more behind a huge violet cushion she had shield-like embraced and chew at the hem of it in nervousness. It had soon become his little amusement: he'd blank her by looking away for a while, just to abruptly stare at her without forewarning.

But fun, exactly like any good thing, isn't meant to last long, especially when booze would butt in, with its all peculiar effect to transform the shiest of kitten into a roaring tiger. Accordingly, as the games had gone on and Rebecca drank, she became more and more resilient to her crush's sky-like gaze. Insomuch that she even had begun returning his courteous smiles!

With much of Kennedy's rejoice, he saw the girl's expression shift at some point from peace of mind to _wait-wait-what_ to _oh-my-god-what-the-fuck._ Hadn't she been already that heated up by tequila she'd have blushed, he was sure of it!

"Becca! It chose you! Wake up!" Moira shouted using her hands like a loudhailer. "We don't have all the night!"

Rebecca was staring with jaw-dropped and wide-eyed face to the bottle neck that, pleonastically, indicated her as the next chosen one. In so far as she tried to imagine and project invisible trajectories, it was without the slightest shred of doubt pointing at her! She wasn't mistaking! Sipping at his beloved liquor, Leon giggled delighted by the girl's eyebrows who suddenly jumped up in realisation whilst her mouth pursed as if to whistle in silence.

"Leon!" Claire's shrill shout blasted, tearing his amused observation. "The hell you doing?! You drink?!"

"Uh?" Leon blabbed, but it was too late when he realised that his involuntary act had been mistaken by anyone for a choice of drinking over kissing.

Abashed, he looked at Rebecca who – justly – looked back astonished and paralyzed, certain that she had just witnessed a scene that deserved a prime position in her top ten list on the worst ways to turn down a girl.

_Rude boy!_

"Oh, no, no! I didn't mean to drink! I haven't chosen yet!" he made haste to clarify.

"Well, then do it now!" Moira urged.

"C'mon, Leon!" Claire said looking at him with a strange intensity. "I didn't save your life for nothing!"

The more or less implicit way in which Claire was beckoning at her friend – as if she wished to take the place of the bottle – reminded him the same kind of hints she'd done to her brother about Jill just a little before. If she was so eager to see others kiss each other… _something's up!_

He was aware he had zero reasons to, but he couldn't help feeling displeased by it (unawares, he was the second guy in a row who felt that way because of her).

_Ok, Claire… if that's what you want!_

A cocky smirk blossomed on the boy's face as he stood up. "Rebecca, would you mind me kissing you?" he asked in his most polite tone.

_Would I? I mean, you kidding me, dude?! When Imma get a chance like this ever again?_

Rebecca raised her gaze and everyone's expectations and, returning his same smirk, the agile she-tiger stood up – despite the bleary mind – and walked towards him, staggering a little but determined to seize the day. Surprising everyone but Claire, she grasped his head so softly that he couldn't even complete his next courtesy of the well-bred guy he was, instead, she made him bow as down as she could press such a passionate kiss on his lips that made everyone feel being the third (fourth, fifth and so on) wheel.

Who'd ever guessed such a thing? The girl was something!

As she broke the heady kiss and pulled back, Leon couldn't help but sigh a faint "wow" with the little breath she had left in his lungs.

Rebecca turned, sat back and gulped down a sip to recover from the audacious move, whilst the dazed boy stood frozen still right in the centre of the human circle, unsteady on his feet.

"C'mon, my friend!" Chris tittered prodding at Leon's calf, inviting him to take a seat beside him. He rested a sound pat on the boy's shoulder, whilst Claire slung herself in a festive hug on the sofa Rebecca was sitting on. "You weren't expecting it, were you?"

Leon nodded in astonishment. "Man…!"

The game went on, but Leon didn't drink not even a single drop, unlike Rebecca who, not to lose the exquisite feeling his mouth had left on hers, drank no matter the chosen one.

Chris, on the big pillow he was sitting on, giggled pretty satisfied. That game had turned out being less bad than he expected. Not only his sister had had the consideration of do not kiss one his friends in front of him, but fortune had been so magnanimous that even that little angel without aureole of Rebecca had finally got a chance to kiss the guy she was so lost for (just like Jill).

_You go girl!_

At least all those hours he had spent listening to her sighing and longing for Leon had eventually payed back!

While the rest of the room exploded in a brand-new wave of furore as they tried and strived to convince Carlos to kiss Piers, Chris bowed towards Leon's ear.

"You impressed her, Kennedy." He susurrated.

Leon side-glanced at him, just that fraction of a second enough to figure out _whom_ that hulk of a boy was talking about. Not Claire, obviously. But he didn't mind. For some reason.

"Did I?"

"Trust me. I know what I'm saying." Chris nodded. "You should make a move on her."

"Isn't she a bit too drunk?" he grimaced.

"Maybe she is." Chris agreed, but he was sure that a sober Rebecca would be so grateful to her drunken self for accepting a date with Leon on her behalf. "But at least, a drunk her can tell you yes." He added, winking.

Leon looked back at the wonder-girl who, meanwhile, laughed overjoyed along with her dearest friends. For all the babel going on for the silly and reciprocal bantering and sassing of Carlos and Piers about homosexuality and the girls laughter, Leon couldn't make out what the two girls were saying, but from their expressions he guessed they were really happy, as if Claire was complimenting and Rebecca was daydreaming.

"Ask her out." Chris suggested.

"Not a bad idea." Leon mumbled. "Not bad at all."

* * *

**I tried to do my best with this chapter. Not 100% satisfied with it but I respect deadlines (when it comes to things I like, obviously).**

**Anyway, see you in seven (this time really it will MOST LIKELY take me ten days) for the third and last part of Freaky Friday. **


	21. Freaky Friday (3 of 3)

**I know, I know I'm like 3 or 4 days late. **

**But as you all are pretty busy with the Remake I thought I'd just get away with it!**

**Here's to you the third and last part of Freaky Friday. A chapter that drained my mental energy SO bad ****(which is plain evidently by the _awful_ quality of it)****. I swear the next ones will be written better as they won't be an editing of some pre-existing writing!**

**Xaori, without you I'd still be crying upon that last dialogue! THANK YOU! (imagine a waterfall of hearts)**

* * *

**Chapter 18 – Freaky Friday (3 of 3)**

* * *

**Part 6 – Veranda and chill**

Once the drinking game was over and everyone somehow got their own part of drunkenness, Chris prohibited drinking more lest someone got sick and, therefore, spoiled the party for everyone.

Tequila had sewn smiles, dumb grins and dopey looks on all those young faces. It was now time for healthier activities. Accordingly, they turned the gaming console on and enjoyed some party videogames.

That so versatile living room shifted function for the second time in a row. Now it was a dancing ballroom. Girls and boys promiscuously shook their hips before the screen, trying to collect as many points as possible to the loud 90s disco dance music. Needless to say, it soon turned into a "girls versus boys" competition. The silliest part was when Piers and Moira exchanged parties with an eager shake of the hands.

In the mid time Chris tried to clean all the trash their rumpus had produced. He collected as many lime peelings as he could find and walked to the kitchen to throw them in the trash bin. With much of his happiness he found his sister there, busy in washing a bowl.

"Hey!" he said, approaching from behind. "If you told me you wanted to clean I'd have helped you!"

"Oh… No worries!" she smiled, wiping the water drops off the sink with a dish cloth. "I don't feel like tidying up shit right now."

"Yeah… we're too bombed for the dishwasher." Chris dumbly tittered, rubbing his eyes like a child.

"How drunk are you?" she asked.

"Actually… not that much." he shrugged, pursing a lip. "I'm pretty tipsy. Not like at Carlos's party but not sober either. But, hey! I can still stand on my feet though!" he said, surprisingly keeping a good balance when standing on one foot. "See?"

"Definitely _not_ like at Carlos's!" She agreed.

"What about you?" Chris asked.

"Well, I'm drunk." She stated. "I preferred telling and kissing over drinking, honey, but with the bottle stopping mostly at boys… it's pretty hard to stay sober!"

He grinned without feeling even slightly guilty for being the reason of his sister's drunkenness. Except for Piers, she had always avoided kissing boys that night, and he had loved her attentiveness just as much as he loved her.

"Wanna come outside with me?" Chris asked, tiredly massaging his neck. "I want to smoke." He sighed.

"It depends…" she maliciously smirked.

"On what?"

"Will you try to make _me_ smoke like Leon did?" she joked, certain that his hangover wouldn't let him piss off at such remembrance.

In fact, he heartily laughed out loud and sassed "I'd never do anything like that! Drunk or not." And pulling her closer, he added, slurring a little the words "but I can't promise I won't try to kiss you on the porch like Leon did!"

* * *

They closed the backdoor and took a seat on a garden bench nearby the wall. The sky was incredibly sheer and, since it was a new moon night, the stars shone bright despite all the City's light pollution. The air was still pregnant with the dense smell of wet soil and the humid coolness made it only more pungent. As Claire was with only her pyjamas on, Chris went inside just to come back with one of the big fluffy blankets wrapped around his wide shoulders like a superhero cape. Tequila alone couldn't warm them enough. He welcomed her on his lap and cheered as he saw her sit astride on him, face to face, sliding her ankles and calves through the large gap between the seat and the backrest, feet dangling freely. Soon they were enveloped in a big Redfield bundle.

"Oh, fuck!" he exclaimed as he noticed that all his smoke kept blowing towards her, no matter of much he would writhe his neck away from her face. He tried to dissipate the white ruffles of smelly vapour but uselessly.

"Don't worry, it's fine. I've spent so much time with the guys when I was you that now I'm kinda used to the smell!"

"And I'm sorry for that, baby." He whispered, leaning forward to kiss her neck gently. "I know you even had to smoke sometimes."

"Yeah… but I got to fake it." She sighed. "I kept the smoke in my mouth."

"Good idea. I'm glad you didn't get into the bad habit." He replied. "That was one of my biggest fears back then."

"Actually, I don't understand why you guys like it so much!" Claire mumbled. "It smells bad, makes your breath smell bad, makes your fingers smell bad…"

Whilst she talked, Chris looked intensely at her face, so close and so pale in the dim-light of the only distant yellowish lightbulb they had turned on. He caressed her cheek with the same hand that firmly pinched the cigarette and brushed her auburn strands. He took one last drag and put the cigarette out, extinguishing it with his foot.

"Chris!" Claire gushed. "I said it's ok! You didn't have to do that!"

"I didn't resist all those days without smoking when I was you just to ruin your lungs with my shitty passive smoke now!" Chris stated and, nuzzling her cheek with his nose, he purred "and I don't want my breath to stink as I just want to kiss you."

She nipped at her lower lip in need for that low, husky whisper of him had elicited a blaze within her. A clear sign that it was time to stop talking and do what Leon hadn't succeeded to accomplish on that very porch many weeks before.

He pulled her waist closer, stroked her hips and lowered his head to kiss her. Cuddled in the thick woollen cover, they soon began making out, like two sweethearts in the dark, oblivious of the party going on in their own house.

Certainly booze had its share of responsibility but, the hand she slid beneath his waistband and into his boxers was absolutely bold. A tremendously daring move for such a crowded night! Yet, he didn't protest nor she did stop – let alone after having met him already quite hard under her. He relaxed and leaned backwards, resting his head against the wall and pulling her closer until she laid slanted against his torso. The huge bundle assured shelter to their nasty doing – nobody would've ever guessed that below that fluffy roll there was a sassy hand-job going on.

Tequila, longing and weariness had induced them to leave guests and inhibitions indoor and veg out on a bench. The alcoholic torpor was what made Chris unwind completely under his sister's both experienced touch and hickeys on his neck notwithstanding the absolutely risky situation. For them the house might have been either desert or full of gorillas and it'd have made no difference in that moment.

They had got to carve a little moment of quietude in that dazing night. A tiny corner of paradise built on her tender kisses and rhythmed by Chris's calm breathing. His heartbeats were strong but slow, almost in synch with her dull knead, and so they remained even when she pulled him out of his sweatpants and began working him harder and faster. She kept stroking him below herself and, when she wasn't sucking on his neck, she'd simply rest her head on his shoulder and smile every time his stubbled Adam's apple would gulp down before a sigh escaped his lips when she thumbed his tip.

He perched his head on her cheek and quietly hummed his contentment in the dark air. Finally, something on that night was right. It was him and her. It was her strokes and kisses only for him, with nobody around getting in the way. No Jill, no Leon, no stupid empty bottles to fuck with them.

_I love you, Claire._

He wanted so bad to spell those words. A bunch of letters never felt rightest.

"This is so perfect, Claire…" he whispered, moaning in need at her quiet hum. "You're so perfect, baby…" _I love you._

Her answer was a most appreciated acceleration of her strokes. He took it as an unsaid "_I love you, too_".

Those three words had clustered in the pit of his stomach and had fast climbed up his chest, pressing against his mouth seeking the deserved freedom and he'd have certainly spelled them in her ear with his most seductive low roar, if only the backdoor didn't creepily screech in the silence. With a start, he turned and glanced a scared look right at…

_Ashley?! The fuck?!_

Claire immediately stopped her doing but didn't move. She felt her brother's heart start sprinting and she just breathed out a quiet hush. To her, whoever may have stepped into the veranda wasn't a problem. The blanket covered them and, honestly, she didn't give a single fuck about anybody other than her brother. In fact, she didn't even raise her head to glance at the inopportune visitor in order to discover who it was.

Chris didn't move as well. But, unlike her, he was terrified and frozen still. In his head a million danger sirens were howling and flashing in warning red.

It was too late to conceal the ambiguous position they were in. The only solution that would not mean making clear they were two nasty siblings was to… act like nothing was happening, like it was absolutely normal to have a sister to straddle you. Nonchalance is the key of a successful lie. Hopefully the dim-light wouldn't make his unease much evident.

Ashley may haven't been the smartest girl on Earth but still expecting her not to question that unorthodox position would be an insult to the human intelligence as a whole!

In fact, Ashley wondered and blinked in confusion. But, as she didn't find any answers, she lastly shrugged. It was too late and too many shots had been downed to legitimately expect any smarter behaviour from her. Had she been Rebecca instead…

"Hi, guys." Ashley waved, rubbing her arm for the cold air.

"Graham." Chris muttered looking at the dark backyard before him, too afraid to show his leering face at her.

"You're missing the dancing battle!"

"Uhm… yeah…" Chris hummed in his guttural voice.

"C'mon! Even Carlos is twisting like a jerk!" she laughed as she approached them and sat on the bench, absently moving lighter and cigarettes away. "Is Claire ok?" she asked as soon as she noticed that her friend's face was buried in Chris's neck, unmoving.

"Oh, yeah… she's a… she's a bit drunk." Chris answered. "I'm taking care of her."

"I'm aaaliiiiiiive…" Claire groaned against his skin.

"Then come inside! The party ain't over!" Ashley exclaimed. "It's barely midnight!" she added and grasped a fistful of wool and tossed it to shake her friends from that state of idle passivity they had fallen into.

The whole bundle quivered dangerously. The blanket was their only protection and if she uncovered them… Chris's heart shuddered hard below his ribs at such thought. But he took advantage of that swift hustle the girl did to slide his hand from Claire's hips to his dick and placed it back in his pants. He didn't believe it would help conceal his boner, but it was still better than having his penis… _en plein air_.

"We'll be right back. I just wanted to have a cigarette." Chris said, hoping it'd get him rid of her.

"Oh, I'll stay with you then." She said, leaning closer to Chris and crossing her legs in the floral printed silk of her pyjamas. "I wouldn't mind having a cigarette with you…"

"I didn't know you smoke." Chris bluntly stated.

_I know you don't smoke, girl. Just get lost!_

"I do… sometimes." She smiled. "Only when in good company." She was now touching his side with her upper body. "Just… I don't have a cigarette with me right now."

Chris cursed himself and all the tobacco industry for having let her get that close and for having talked. Lest the blonde suspected anything, he was forced to offer her a cigarette and take one for himself to keep up appearances. His previous act of kindness towards Claire's health became useless as now she was surrounded by the smell of _two_ cigarettes!

What the boy hadn't considered was that Ashley wanted more than a tobacco supply from him. She started complaining about the cold until Chris and his gallantry felt compelled to allow her under the blanket. With his dick back in his natural garments, maybe he could afford a guest in the bundle!

Ashley literally clung to his thick arm and made it stick to her torso, all smiling and curbing coughs.

Chris rolled his eyes at the awful situation he was in: his sister on his lap and chest, a flirting Ashley on his right side, a cigarette poking out of the blanket bundle, an aching erection in his pants.

He just wanted the blonde to fuck off, so he could fuck the redhaired hard.

He sighed at his bad luck. But this last smoky resignation breath abruptly died halfway in his throat as he flinched badly.

He felt, clear and unmistakable, Claire's hand resuming her rubbing at his dick through his pants.

_She can't be doing it with Ashley just few inches away from us! She can't! _

She could and she did.

He heard her quietly chuckle on his neck, pinch his skin between her lips-covered teeth and suck it. He had to loudly clear his throat to cover up the wet pop sound her mouth did as she released him.

His sister was a very, very bad, dirty girl. Hadn't she been that drunk, he'd have hardly believed she was basically doing the same mistake as in his car on last Monday! What was on her mind?! Drunk or not, Claire knew that if she kept teasing him that way, he'd not be able to smother his climax.

He swallowed hard and side glanced at the blonde beside him. Ashley utterly ignored that Claire was the girl she wanted so badly to be. Also, she was unaware of being the third wheel in that veranda. Was his sister somehow asserting some sort of dominance over her bitchy friend with that inopportune touch? Maybe his kind-hearted, sympathetic, supportive sister had been turned into a vengeful little bitch by that cheap tequila.

The brainless giggle Claire let out suggested that she was doing _what_ she was doing only because… she was fucking bombed. That's it. No other complex reasoning or theories lurked in her inebriated mind. She was drunk, maybe horny, surely sleepy and she didn't give a fuck about anything but _taking care _of her favourite dick.

Chris tried to ignore the pervading pleasure and strived to hide his arousal from the blonde. He preferred to focus on his cigarette, inhaling the smoke in greed but he couldn't help his breath from leaping in pleasure when exhaling. She was dragging him over the edge with slow, incredibly slow strokes. He had to do something _fast_ before he'd start to pant. He pinched her butt-cheek but ineffectively. Then again she seemed to even like it! it encouraged her to stroke him harder!

_Jesus, Claire! Just stop._

Chris couldn't bear it anymore.

As Claire tilted her head and almost brushed his lips with hers, Chris realized she was getting too turned on and mindless. He wouldn't let her put them in danger once again!

Moving forward, he threw away the cigarette and asked Ashley to adjust the blanket back on his shoulder as he had to bring Claire to the bathroom to help her sober up.

As soon as the all-Redfield bundle had been recomposed, he stood up, with his sister still clinging to him and went back home, reassuring the blonde that they'll be soon joining the rest of the group in the living room.

Ashley walked right behind them through the kitchen and the dining room, and Chris feared she'd have followed them up to the bathroom. Thankfully, the girl soon got drawn away by a screaming Sheva. Good.

He'd have soon been alone with his sister but as he turned the corner to step on the staircase, he was met by the least welcomed sight ever.

The "elders" had returned home from their _date_ and, especially Lily, were pretty shocked by the unexpected and promiscuous outcome of an _only girls' sleepover_.

_Holy shit_.

Chris gulped down a gasp as his parents approached, suddenly a religious side he didn't know existed woke up within him as he started begging the _heavenly high quarters_ for an intercession that could save him from the approaching Hell on Earth. _Oh, Jesus! Oh, God! Oh, fuck! Oh, Jesus! Fuck-fuck-fuck!_

"Is that Claire?!" Robert asked in concern as he spotted the auburn ponytail dangling off his son's shoulder, whilst he glanced at his wife's composed fury over his own shoulder.

Chris was in a cold sweat. If they decided to take his sister off him, then the outcome of the hot secret "massage" would've been revealed, unmasking their nastiness in front of literally everyone they cared about. Chris was cursing himself for having dropped his guard in the riskiest night ever! He wanted to curse Claire too, as not even their parent's voice was enough to stop her teasing, but he couldn't get to do it.

"Yeah, she's sleepy. It's late." He lied, dissimulating his fright.

"Is she drunk?" Lily asked, not prone to buy any bullshit their kids had to sell. "Have you let her get drunk?"

Think fast Redfield! Just say something and rush to the bathroom before you'll get a fucking hell of an orgasm before your parents. His sister was too certain their hideaway was inexpungable to stop teasing him. He reckoned a confession was the fastest way. "She drank just a little Mom. But don't you worry, I'm taking care of her!" Chris hastily replied and eagerly ran upstairs, not at all inclined to wait for an obvious reproach.

* * *

**Part 7 – Safe Room**

"I don't need to sober up, Chris." Claire muttered as they stepped into the bathroom and her brother slammed the door closed.

"Oh, I think you do." He angrily gruffed. "But first you have to take care of what you caused."

Once the privacy of the only safe room in the house assured them a better shelter than the blanket, he shook the cover off their bodies and placed his sister on the floor. She looked up at him with smutty needy eyes and grinned at his evident erection and her ability to get him that hard so effortlessly.

"You said you wanted to give me a blow job, right?" He asked with a throaty voice, recalling what she'd told him in that same place just a few hours before.

She nodded, licking her lips in anticipation, without breaking eye contact and she raised on her knees in a slow, sexy, smooth movement.

"Now you _must_ do it." He growled and grasped his pants and underwear and pulled it all down with one angry move.

As if she hadn't been waiting for anything different, Claire fiercely bucked her head towards his groin, eager to take his bouncing member in her mouth. She kept a steady pace since the beginning, licking and sucking carefully.

She loved when he acted that pissed off at her just as she loved watching him tumble down for her. She didn't have to wait much before he grasped her head and ponytail and started swaying his hips back and forth, matching her rhythm. Shallow breaths becoming raw moans and hot hissings.

"I'm gonna come, baby" He muttered panting harshly and looking down at her, few seconds before climaxing and throbbing in her mouth, almost shouting her name while losing himself in her killer blue eyes.

"Are you still mad at me?" Claire asked after a while, as she got up from the ground, observing her brother pulling his clothes back up.

He smiled and, raising her chin gently with his thumb and forefinger, he kissed her tenderly. "I never was."

A blow job was all it took to suck away his resentment.

She smiled back as she knew that already. "I love it when you play the angry boy..."

"I love your slutty ideas. Even those that get me having my bare dick just a few inches away from that horny of a girl!" He laughed embracing her in a warm hug.

After a while of comfortable silence he hummed, mouth sunk in her perfumed hair whose fragrance had now enriched of a burnt smell. "I'm sorry for that last cigarette baby... I didn't have choice."

"Don't worry, Chris... I breathed only your scent."

Chris drew her to the toilet and grinned slyly as he rose his two fingers before her. Claire smiled and mewled in excitement. She'd have like one of those good powerful fingerfucks of his right then, but unfortunately, her brother had other plans.

"I fear we don't have time for you, baby." Chris stated, with much of her disappointment. "These two are for your throat. You're gonna sober up, you lovely slut!"

* * *

**Part 8 – Jalousie door, jealousy's sour**

Since Chris had confiscated all the little remaining liquor and advanced to turn on the PlayStation and have some fun, Rebecca decided to go to the kitchen and have some water. All the excitement and adrenaline that kiss with Leon had provoked in her and all the tequila she had downed afterwards, it had aroused a burning thirst in her throat. She swayed to the sink, grasped a glass from the upper cabinet and poured herself some fresh water.

_Aaaah, what a relief!_

She filled her glass once more to deal the finishing blow to her drought and she drank even that second one in greed. Turning, she peered through the bottom glass and discovered she was in good company. Rebecca lowered the image-distorting glass only that little enough to have a better look at whoever had had her same urgency.

She almost choked on her first innocent drink of the night!

"You're a true drunkard, aren't you?" Leon's killer eyes winked.

"Not that you're a teetotaller, though." The she-tiger smirked, gulping down the last sip.

"Touché."

"Want some?" Rebecca offered, waving at the sink.

"Oh, no thanks." Leon refused. His drought needed a whole different thing to be relented than simple fresh water.

"Guess water's not enough alcohol for you." She winked in malice.

"Hey, the drunkard is you not me!" Leon joked.

"Do you ever drink anything normal? You know, like… coffee… fruit juice… tea…" Rebecca teased.

"I do drink juice!" Leon replied. "And I'd like to drink one with you."

His sentence came out pretty cockier than it had sounded in his head, but he didn't flinch. There was something in the feline girl's confident demeanour that made him feel easy enough to approach and dare to make a move on her. Becky had proved herself being a sassy girl, he could allow himself a little sauciness too. Chris would've clapped his hands for sure had he been there.

"You mean like… _now_?" Rebecca wondered.

"Now, tomorrow, next Sunday… whenever you want, Rebecca." Leon purred, resting a hand onto the near countertop and enticingly smiling at the girl. She was so close he could almost smell her scent, if only the woody odour of the liquid courage she had so abundantly downed hadn't trumped it.

"Oh, tomorrow is good!" Rebecca hastily replied in acceptance and leaned her head even closer to his, until their breaths fused. "But today is better!" She sassed, making the future sober Rebecca so staggered, proud and grateful.

"We can do both then…" Leon whispered, slowly getting lost in the green of her irises, unaware how hard it was even for a drunken Rebecca not to faint before those same killer eyes she'd been dreaming of so much. With an impressive strain she managed to shake herself and her hips to the fridge, seeking some good fruit juice to share with a guy who was growing thirsty albeit not dehydrated.

"We have orange juice aaaaand…" She declared, fathoming the cool shelves. "…more orange juice."

"Ew. Anything _without_ oranges?" He mumbled, taking a chance to get closer to her again.

If the fridge was full of orange juice it was only because of Claire's obnoxious obsession with it and its stupid load of vitamin C. Rebecca, who knew Claire's house as if it was her own, slammed the fridge closed and swayed to the nearby walk-in pantry jalousie door, determined to get a drink with the Handsome Guy. She could bet her head Mrs Redfield had a whole stock of fruit juice packs in there. In fact, she didn't have to search much as she soon spotted bottles in the high rack of as many tastes as she could wish. When she turned to offer Leon some apple juice, she found him standing right behind her inside the pantry, practically less than one inch away from her body.

He ripped a gasp out of her as he took the sheer bottle from her hands and rested it back on the shelf, without breaking eye contact for a single instant. She hadn't drunk enough to bear the impossible stare he addressed her without getting butterflies to twirl in madness in her stomach.

If that whole night was a mere dream, she prayed to never wake up.

Her lungs stopped breathing the exact moment when his fingertips grazed her blushed cheek. Beyond the loud pounding of her own heartbeats flooding her ears, she could hear nothing else. The music, the distant yells, everything had muffled down and kept vanishing as long as his lips kept getting close to hers. At such a rate, their second kiss would've blasted in a heavenly silence.

But it never happened.

He had almost succeeded to brush her tender mouth when the jalousie door abruptly and noisily slammed closed behind them. Music, yells and reality vehemently rolled back along with the blasting noise. Leon startlingly turned to see who had locked them inside the pantry – it so looked like one of Carlos's usual shitty pranks! If it was his hairy friend that screwed his kiss, Carlos had better run this time.

Leon peered through the door crooks. His eyes widened in disbelief as he saw…

_Claire!_

She was all alone by the sink dancing and humming a song through her nose. Unbeknownst to the two "sweethearts", the girl had walked into the kitchen and closed the door with a heel kick without even question why it was open or if there was anybody inside it – she was too wasted to use her brain that much!

Leon glanced at Rebecca who just shrugged unperturbed.

Exiting the pantry was out of question for both of them. Rebecca didn't want to break that intimate moment she'd got with her dream boy. Leon, instead, deep inside wanted to avoid Claire to see him with a girl – her best friend. At her party. In her house.

He was uncomfortable in such a situation. Following the gorgeous girl inside the pantry had been a cocky move and it surely impressed her but now it simply turned out being a stupid idea. They were trapped in a dead end. It was either keep lurking or get caught. Leon swallowed hard, trying to muster a good excuse to blather out if Claire ever opened that door.

But whatever excuse he might've come up with would've been useless and implausible as Rebecca's dainty fingers trailed up his nape and raked through the short locks of his blond hair, just to pull him down back in her kiss. Rebecca had taken the initiative for the second time in a row as, apparently, the whole universe wanted it so and not the other way round.

A sting of pleasure almost ripped a gasp out of him but her ravaging lips wouldn't let anything escape. Eyes closed, he slumped an arm around her waist and drew her closer, abandoning himself to the moment.

What was outside that room didn't matter in that moment. Claire be damned, he wouldn't give a shit about behaving. Claire herself didn't give shit about his feelings when she bitch-slapped him in the veranda, nor did Chris anytime he forbade him to think about his sister! Was that what Chris wanted? Then he'll please him! He just wouldn't care about Claire, her feelings – that he utterly doubted even existed towards him – and the respect for other people's house!

So they kissed, undisturbed. Not even Chris's voice got to shake them. Not until…

"_But I can promise I won't try to kiss you like Leon did."_

That sentence, a little slurred, muffled by the music and obviously misheard, had enough disruptive power to freeze the atmosphere inside the pantry. Rebecca's heart ached so badly she immediately broke the kiss.

Leon had tried to kiss Claire.

If Chris had said so... it was a truth. He'd never lie about such a thing, especially if he ignored he was spied on. The _liar, _the shameless liar was the _other_ Redfield. All the friendly words Claire had spoken in the school's hallway resurfaced in capital letters from the alcoholic sea of feelings Rebecca's mind was.

_I-knew-about-his-crush-from-Chris my ass!_

With bitterness shadowing her features, she slid her arms off Leon's neck and her look dropped to the ground. It hurt.

Leon, on his side, was hurt too. He disliked how his best friend was making fun of him and how both him and Claire laughed at his "_don't-call-it-a-mistake_". As if it hadn't been humiliating enough the first time!

As soon as the backdoor closed behind the Redfields siblings, Leon cleared his throat and breathed in to say anything to defuse the unbearable frost that had seized the pantry but words failed him.

"So it's true..." Rebecca scoffed. "You like Claire. Sheva was right."

Leon remained silent again, this time for a running Chris that noisily rolled into the kitchen by the backdoor and ran back outside just a few moments later wrapped in a blanket or so.

Leon cursed mentally. Dammit! He was so close to making out with that girl! The fun part of the night had just begun and it had already been screwed! It seemed to be the story of his life! Anytime he tried to act like who he wasn't to get a girl (or _the_ girl…) the whole cosmos butted in and fucked his plans up. Despite the hangover, he also felt terribly sorry for the hurt look on the girl's face. He had sensed she was pretty into him, and he couldn't just shrug and walk away now. He had to remedy it.

"You know... when I tried to kiss her..." he muttered

"Don't. " Rebecca whispered, breaking the pensive expression that had dressed her face until then. "You don't have to justify yourself. You owe me nothing, Leon."

"I know but... I want you to know the truth." He murmured.

He briefly told her about the kiss on the veranda, and about how he had thought Claire reciprocated his interest when, instead, he had just mistaken her gaze. He emphasized those little details that would've exonerated him to the girl's eyes and overlooked him asking Claire to stay a little alone with him and about how damn lost he was for her. He knew that "lying" to a girl just to make out with her was despicable, but a drunk Leon wouldn't spot the subtle difference between a plain lie and a sugared retelling of an awkward memory. Moreover, Rebecca's two kisses had been too out of this world not to long for more.

For some reason though, he also wanted to make a good impression on her. She seemed so much of a nice girl and she was tremendously pretty. Drunk or not that he was, he'd found her pretty since she had glanced at him for the first time from behind her violet cushion.

Rebecca mistrustfully listened, but a part of her mind was scolding her for wasting such a precious chance! Thus, when she had enough of his explanations of how intensely Claire had been staring at him and how ingenuously he had thought she was asking for being kissed and how gallantly he'd fulfilled her wish, she rolled her eyes and sighed in irritation. At Claire. Her best friend.

_Ok, Becca. You talk it out with her tomorrow. Now just fucking kiss him already!_

So she did. Just like she'd done in the game, she pulled him down and clashed her lips on him. Both quietly moaned their contentment. She was kissing her crush. He had saved his ass and gotten the pretty girl. Everyone got what they wanted, everyone was happy… right?

Well, only time will tell. For now there was no telling what was really going on in their minds except for fulfilling pleasure.

How good it was - in spite of all the bitterness that had filled the small pantry. It was so good that they didn't even notice Ashley rambling about in the kitchen for a while before she walked out onto the veranda.

When Leon's neck vertebrae begged for some mercy, he dared sliding his hands down Rebecca's butt-cheeks and, chuckling against her lips, he lifted her and sat her on one of the clearest shelves. She clutched her legs around his waist and giggled something about how tall she felt now that she had his eyes at her same level.

The first time, during the game, Leon might have asked her a kiss for convenience and spite, but now he just wished to kiss the night away with her.

A desire that wasn't meant to become true as, a few minutes later, just as Leon had boldly started kneading her breasts, some alarming voices rumbled near and clear. The modern Romeo and Juliet gasped and took their hands off the other immediately.

The Redfields had returned home and, apparently, were arguing right before the pantry door. They could perfectly see them through the crooks in the door. Rebecca grasped Leon's arm and mouthed a "shit! What do we do now?" in despair.

Leon rubbed her hand and waved a finger before his shiny lips, still wet with her saliva. "We'll wait." _And hope they don't fucking need a midnight snack!_

* * *

"Where did we go wrong if our kids are irresponsible enough to turn our house into a clandestine pub?" Lily whined, rubbing her forehead in worry by the kitchen island.

"Honey, don't you think you're overstating it a little too m-"

"They're underage, Robert!" Lily harshly interrupted with such an intransigent tone that made even the two undercover kids shiver in fear.

"C'mon, darling. You've been young too." Her husband shrugged while opening the fridge in search for something fresh – that wasn't his daughter's disgusting orange juice – to elegantly wash away the tedious taste of the two hours long _radical-chic_ theatrical piece his wife had chosen for them. "You know how these things work… you call a friend, who calls a friend who brings-"

"Who brings _booze_. That's what!" Lily hissed, stealing him words. "I can smell it from here!"

Robert sighed and closed the fridge with the typical Redfield heel kick and unclipped a beer. In his opinion, what his kids had done wasn't _that bad_. He himself had had way more reckless experiences in his adolescence! He mentally scoffed at an innocent party like that. Hadn't he been that super-certain about his wife's faithfulness, he'd start to doubt those two nice kids were his spawn! _C'mon… a dozen kids in an adult-free house and not even a single butt of a joint?! Tsk… losers! _Robert scoffed against the beer can, careful not to let any of his desecrating nostalgia shine through though, lest Lily would kick him out of their bedroom later on and force him to sleep on the couch!

"Robert." Lily continued in an earnest tone. "Are you seriously gonna overlook the fact that our kids are drunk?"

"Not at all, my love. We'll have a word with them." He replied resuming his role of responsible parent, and quickly raised his finger to hush her. "_Tomorrow_. But for now, for _tonight_, let 'em have fun. They're just kids!"

"Exactly. They are. And Claire's wasted!" Lily protested and scoffed. "_Sleepy_ my ass!"

"You know you turn me on when you talk that dirty..." Robert hoarsely purred, drawing her closer. He'd dodged the couch, now why not trying for the jackpot?

Lily tilted her head away from his attempt of kissing her out of her upset in his vain hope to deviate the conversation and maybe get laid, then again she addressed him a pointed look. But soon her combatant gaze softened and she let out a breath of exasperation. "Honey, Claire's so young..."

"Love, I'm not happy to see my little girl passed out either." Robert murmured, caressing her face. "But she's got Chris looking after her, and I trust my son. He has always taken care of her at his best, even when he was inside her body. You know better than me how hard it was for him to stop smoking..."

Inside the pantry, Rebecca had to push her fist in her own mouth not to gasp in scandal at hearing – _eavesdropping_ – about people being inside other people for the second time on that evening!

"...So if he let her drink tonight, he knew what he did. I'm sure!" Robert stated.

Lily had to nod. Chris had behaved perfectly after the body swap – if one would close an eye on that night when both got drunk at a birthday party.

Robert tightened his embrace around his wife's waist. It was with a flickering voice that he spoke again after a long pause. "Claire's still having her panic attacks. She tries to minimize it but..."

"But we're not blind." Lily nodded, joining her husband in his downcast mumbling.

Robert simply kissed her cheek and kept his mouth on her skin. He frowned in utter worry. Getting drunk is not the best way to cope with literally anything but… maybe his daughter just needs some mindless times.

"You know, honey… Claire confessed me she hoped that giving to Chris his body back would get her rid of panic..." Lily continued. "…but now she fears she'll never heal."

Robert's heart ached. "It's all my fault."

"No, don't..." Lily whispered.

"I should've _never_ brought them into my lab. If I did so, none of it happened and our daughter would be just the happy girl she's always been before… ugh, before she was forced to play her brother's role! I should've been firmer with Umbrella's hotshots."

Lily cradled him in her arms and finally gave her husband the chance to kiss her lips again. "Let's not forget about Chris." She sighed. "He worries me even more than our girl."

In fact, Lily had noticed the tension on her son's gaze in those last days. Paradoxically, it seemed to her that his already compromised serenity had worsened since the _shit had been fixed_.

"If only I could turn back time, honey…" Robert dejectedly sighed.

The depression in his tone broke her heart. "Well… I'm sure my super genius husband can build a time machine!" Lily purred, trying to cheer her man. "After all he got to pull a people-switcher thing out of nowhere!"

Robert stretched a bashful smile. "C'mon, honey. Let's go to bed."

When Leon and Rebecca were sure the two adults had left, they finally got out of the pantry, speechless and astonished.

"What the hell…?" Leon muttered in disbelief, trying to get any answer from the pensive girl who, instead, seemed pretty focused on mumbling over what she had heard.

"Leon." She stated at some point. "Do you believe in paranormal?"

* * *

**People, beautiful readers from all around the globe, do not do drugs. Save your lives, save your money. Be like a Redfield. Well, at least… the younger ones.**

**P.S. I have nothing against orange juice. I just neither like nor dislike it.**

**P.P.S. Hey fellow incestfield shippers from USA, heard today is National Siblings Day in your Country... so just intend this chapter as gift XD Love your sibling (possibly without risking jail). #humour**


	22. The Sign of the Two

**This _anomalous_ chapter's title is a clear homage to Arthur Conan Doyle's "The sign of the four". **

**Hope this continuous dance of flashbacks isn't too messy.**

* * *

**Chapter 19 – The sign of the two**

* * *

**Part 1 – Overnight getaway**

Rebecca was unsure whether to laugh or to sigh in love. Had it been anybody else to drive to her house on a _tandem_ she'd have laughed until her lungs ran out of breath and bled, but since it was Leon Kennedy… she found the vision of him getting off the bizarre bicycle suggestive rather than ridiculous. Albeit it was _not_ what she imagined when he had told her "_I'll pick you up_". The boy walked the bike alongside the fence of her garden and parked it near the gate just as the dynamo headlight turned off.

It was late, past one a.m., and a wintry wind descended from the mountainside to flay Raccoon City on that November's Monday night, a month that had already introduced itself with a rapid – and sibylline – change in the weather. They ought not to ignore that handwriting on the wall and seek shelter from that premonitory wind before it would play havoc with their lives, hearts, minds. There were too many kids sneaking in the dark in that night and sure as hell they were all up to no good: Chris and Claire were right then sexting before meeting up in the basement, whereas Leon and Rebecca… what where they up to again?

Brewing troubles, for sure.

At a wave of Leon's hand, Rebecca hopped down her porch and crossed the lawn, furtively glancing back at her house's windows to check they were all properly dark and shut. The last thing she wanted was her moustached old man to peak out his bedroom and yell an incredulous "_Rebbie?!"_ in his eccentric nightcap.

"Does your Dad suspect anything?" Leon asked, low and panting, as soon as the girl was within earshot.

"Naaah… I left him snoring before _Law and Order_ so…" Rebecca chuckled. "He won't notice I'm missing."

That tv show had always a soporific effect on her father, and that night as well it had punctually (broad)casted its spell just as Rebecca had _casually_ stopped channel hopping.

"Good." Leon nodded. "I'll bring you home before dawn anyway."

Despite the poor illumination of that corner of the street, he didn't miss her ironic grimace at his _unusual_ vehicle and, chuckling his slight embarrassment out, he handed her a bike helmet. "I hope it's your size."

It became impossible for Rebecca not to laugh now in front of that daisy-patterned most-likely-pink helmet. She had to press a hand onto her mouth to muffle a laughter before she'd have woken the whole neighbourhood and her lovely walrus of a Dad as well. "Sorry, Leon." She managed to giggle. "But I wasn't expecting you to pick me up in a… a-a… ahahahaha!"

"Yeah…" the boy sighed, letting a faint smile bloom on his face for the contagious giggle of her. "It's just I still haven't got my driving licence yet."

"Can't pass the exam?" she wondered, lacing the helmet below her chin.

Leon derisively shook his head and got back on the bicycle. "Until I do, I'll ride this baby."

"Only by night, I guess!" Rebecca scoffed as she took a seat behind him, suppressing kinky thoughts about him rather riding her. "Why do you even own one?"

Leon shrugged the question away and started riding along the sidewalk, with Rebecca still tittering and joking about the fact they hadn't to fear to be seen by anyone on that hipsters' ecologic jalopy in such desert streets.

He didn't mind her comments but neither did he laugh along with her.

That tandem was the second last remaining memory of his parents' happiest marriage times – the other was himself. He had only a vague remembrance of his family actually using it on outdoor Sundays, even though he couldn't quite separate true memories from the dreams he had carved out of some old photos of a toddler himself sitting in the front basket with his father driving behind him.

After the divorce, whilst with one hand his mother Martha buried her marriage, with the other she had resurrected that tandem from the dusty garret to use it with her son on sunny days – just to create some new happy memories with the real man of her life. But not even in her craziest fantasies Mrs Kennedy would've imagined that her family friendly bicycle would one day serve as some sort of _getaway_ _car_ in the hands of her son.

Everything had started earlier that same morning, when Leon left without even finishing to have his breakfast.

Worn out as she was from the night shift she had just ended at the Spencer Memorial Hospital where she worked as a nurse, Martha Kennedy hadn't paid much attention to the strangely wound-up gaze of her son while, with the haste of whom can't wait to get out, he had snarfed down big spoonfuls of his porridge without even bothering to sit down. Martha was already with a foot in the bed and the mind projected onto her consecutive night shift when the boy waved at her with a shouted _see-you-later-Mom_ and slammed the door shut.

Leon had a specific aim to achieve and he ran like his ass was on fire. Though there was no countdown building any fire under his ass. It was just a yearning for getting finally rid of a torturous and haunting thought that pushed him to rush that recklessly down the streets so early in the morning.

It's Monday, Kennedy… just chill out!

Leon arrived at the bus stop when there were only a couple of other kids and he was forced to stop, catch a breath and lastly pander to a boring waiting. The sidewalk got quickly crowded, and soon it granted him the presence of Chris and Piers, whose company helped filling the spare time. Leon seemed to care so little about them, as if his mind was somewhere else. In fact, he kept looking around himself in the hope to spot the by then very familiar face of Rebecca.

"Honestly! Guys, what about coming back to Earth?" Piers prickly complained at some point, bothered by the total lack of interest of his friends in his telling of his last date.

"Sorry, what?" Leon stammered out.

"I said I fucked your mother in the ass." Piers hissed.

"Oh, you mean your aunt?" Leon reposted, but his renewed attention trailed off as soon as Rebecca appeared in the distance.

Eye-rolling at the persistent distraction of his cousin's, Piers groaned in exasperation at Chris as his provocation had got him nowhere. But he wasn't any luckier as even the big boy was focused on someone else. "Chris! But really! At least you…"

"Mh?" Chris hummed, surprised in the act of basking in the sight of his sister joyfully dallying with her friends. "Go on. You were talking about this guy?"

"He's name's Jack." Piers pointed out, by then completely huffy.

"Who's Jack?" the warm voice of Carlos uttered from behind them, as he approached walking slowly despite him being very late. "Hope Daniel's, 'cause I'm always up for a jackgasm, man!"

Happy to have a new pair of ears to bother with his laments, Piers resumed telling his last amorous misadventure and whining about how his friends preferred checking girls out instead of listening to his heartaches. Dammit, he always listened when it was them confiding about girls! Why couldn't he get just a little attention?! His heart was confused and hurt and… he'd use some good advice for once.

"We understood he dumped you after just one week, Piers." Leon intervened, to quickly dismiss the discussion so he could focus on his aim – who now appeared to even shyly smile at him whilst she feigned interest in listening to Claire as well. "Just ditch it. There's other fish in the sea."

"Hey, he didn't dump me! I dumped him!" Piers protested and cursed dumbfounded at the lack of empathy his cousin extemporized.

Meanwhile, the bus arrived.

The sliding doors opened and the neighbourhood kids filled its seats, some yawning, others reluctantly, but just _one_ impatiently. Making room towards the bottom seats he usually occupied with the other guys, Leon lamely pretended to stumble and landed on Rebecca from behind. The girl already had a protesting spirited exclamation on the tip of her tongue to deliver right to the face of the _unable to walk straight zombie_, but she simply failed as, turning, she faced the beaming smile of the most impossible guy on the planet who inserted something in the back pocket of her jeans with one hand while he apologetically stroked her cheek with the other.

Rebecca didn't utter a single word for the rest of the ride.

She simply stood there, dreaming, trying to contain her enthusiasm for the fact that Leon not only had talked to her, but also that he had even – almost – touched her ass. Almost, as he had been so delicate and precise in his most mysterious delivery that his hand had barely skimmed her buttock. Bad, because he could've downright groped her ass and she'd have not complained. At all!

As they had got off the bus, Leon addressed her with a look full of complicity before walking away to the school's entrance. Without indulging any further, Rebecca shoved a hand into her pocket and extracted a note.

_See you at breaktime at the broom closet, Leon._

A. Fucking. Date.

Leon had given her a fucking date!

"Let's see whatcha got here!" Claire tittered, snatching the note from Rebecca's hands, whose dazed expression had intrigued her too much not to want to know more. "Woah! The guy's on fire!" Claire suggestively winked, handing the note over to Jill.

The not-so-concealed move of Leon's hadn't gone unnoticed by neither Claire nor Jill who had only pretended to look away, and now they both read with extreme voracity that bunch of words so hurriedly scribbled on a yellow piece of paper ripped off some Umbrella drugs promotional note blocks.

Rebecca feigned a neutral face but she couldn't help bitterness to arouse under her skin. Claire seemed so sincerely happy for her and this showed her total loyalty, yet still Rebecca felt betrayed and sour. All things considered, Claire hadn't done anything wrong except for hiding the bitter truth that Leon was so into her that he even tried to kiss her, and she'd done it only to save her a heartache because she loved her, but the let-down was still too scorching. They were friends, they had promised one another to hold no secrets. Conversely, all the bewildering revelations she'd newly come across showed her a version of Claire pretty accustomed to deceit. Rebecca felt terrible as she wondered about her best friend… how many other lies had Claire succeeded to make her buy?

* * *

The English lesson seemed to never end. By then, the girl stared more at the clock than at the blackboard and huffed every two minutes and a half, punctual as a geyser. It was like the clock's hands were going backwards!

She daydreamt of how her so imbued in secrecy encounter with Leon would be. Would he kiss her? Rebecca shook that option away from her head. Leon wasn't a sleaze! He wouldn't act nasty in a storage room – even though Friday's events proved quite the contrary… but, back then he was drunk (and so was she) so… so _that doesn't count! Ok?_

Besides, she – a sober Rebecca – would never ever settle for such an _absolutely not_ romantic meeting like that! No way! Not twice. She wasn't the kind of girl to hook up with in a filthy cubbyhole! If he wanted her, he better ask her out on a real date.

Rebecca nodded at herself in agreement, trying to stay grounded, while the inner she-tiger that had possessed her at the sleepover's heyday laughed it off, certain that Sober-Becca would fall head over heels for the blond guy – no matter the ambience.

* * *

Finally, breaktime!

Claire and Jill maliciously waved at Rebecca to meet up at the next class and walked away, cackling in excitement. The latter girl instead, lost no time in rushing through the corridors towards the rendezvous point.

The storage room was a minuscule space in which the janitorial staff stored everything necessary for the big building's upkeep. It was so small that everyone simply called it the broom closet. It was located in a remote corner, usually not much trodden even during the breaks between lessons. So it was no surprise when Rebecca saw that there wasn't even the slightest trace of people around when she arrived.

Not of Leon either, though.

The brunette extracted the yellow note and read it over. She was doubtlessly in the right place at the right time. She waited a little, but Leon didn't show up. She was on the verge of stomping away, believing that the boy had simply forgotten but a little voice in her head suggested her to _peer_ _inside_ the small room, just for doubt's sake.

"Rebecca!" Leon exclaimed as he saw her head peeking through the door. "I feared you hadn't got my note! Come in!"

The boy drew her inside the cramped space and, after one last glance at the hollow hallway, he gingerly closed the door. That room really deserved to be nicknamed _closet_! It was so narrow and stuffed they barely had the room to walk. It was poorly brightened by a narrow window and it smelled like cheap floor cleaner and mould but to the girl it had suddenly become the most idyllic place in the world. She expected to hear the sea waves crash onto white shores any time now, while chirping birds and colourful parrots flew around like in a Disney movie and the tropical perfume of exotic flowers stirred in the air to bewitch her mind. And she knew fireworks would blast when he'd have kissed her again like on last Friday night – with thirsty abandon. And sure as hell he'd better kiss her soon! Sleaze or not that he was. Sobriety be damned.

With dreamy eyes, Rebecca watched him approach and take her arms in his soft grab, thumbing her slowly. He was so close that his breath caressed the point of her nose like a warm zephyr.

"I can't stop thinking about Friday night." Leon whispered.

"Me neither…" Rebecca cooed.

"I can't get it out of my head." Leon continued, frowning as if he was in pain.

She choked on a sigh of want that morphed into a gasp halfway in her throat. Her glimpse of idyll was brutally torn by a bitter note in his voice. He sounded quite anxious and totally _not_ charming. Was the guy regretting anything?!

Looking straight in his eyes, she tried to fathom the origin of his tense tone.

"What they said it's so absurd, I know, but…" he stuttered and despondently shook his head, soft blond hair locks swaying over his forehead.

The hopelessly romantic girl scowled as she realised Leon wasn't referring to the delightful kisses they shared in the pantry room but to what they'd overheard in there, instead!

By then, a whole weekend separated them from that heady night, when they had overheard the Redfields unknowingly spitting out the revelation of the century. At that moment both hardly had believed their own ears – even if alcohol has the magic power to give logic even to the worst crap. Rebecca had been on the fence even while excitedly recounting Leon what she'd eavesdropped Claire say to Chris when the girl believed to be alone in the closet. As if giving any credence to that bogus by bringing more elements on the table was even more foolish that the revelation itself! Nevertheless, the more she recounted, the more her incredulity faded and it lastly yielded to the rising comprehension of a puzzle that began recomposing before their eyes. Tiny pieces that singularly wouldn't mean anything reasonable but, once combined together…

The frame still made no sense, or better, it made no _acceptable_ sense but the overall picture, despite all the cracks in the weave, alluded clearly to an unbelievable story of paranormal... whatever it was.

Hadn't she been so indisputably certain about the fact that what she'd heard had been spelled in good faith by oblivious kids then and responsible adults now, Rebecca would've surely thought the Redfields were either in the mood for jokes or had gone crazy.

Leon on his side had carefully listened to her and believed her total sincerity. Why on Earth would the girl lie about having sneaked in and eavesdropped? Moreover, he hadn't missed to notice the curbed gasp she'd done at the very first allusions of the two adults.

Albeit their curiosity and fantasy began going bananas, trumping even their reciprocal attraction, the two kids hadn't had the chance to mull over that information. Both were too drunk back then and Rebecca's rationality needed sobriety, time and silence to elaborate a theory that wouldn't imply that switching souls was possible – as facts pointed straight and mean to the opposite direction. Whereas Leon's wasted brain wasn't sufficiently supplied with blood as turned on as he still was. Not that they would've had the time to sit down and figure things out though as, just a few minutes after the Redfields had gone, a horde of hollering kids broke into the kitchen and hauled them away in a sashaying human train at the rhythm of _that_ famous Gloria Gaynor's song.

The rest of the weekend had kept them parted. So each of them had the chance to chew it on on their own while dealing with the worst headaches of their lives.

Rebecca spent the whole Saturday replaying the previous night's events in her mind, oscillating between being overjoyed for having kissed Leon finally overcoming her shyness and the embitterment for the disappointment towards Claire – her fucking best friend in the world. In the end, the latter feeling prevailed and got to depress her so much that she even came up with an excuse not to hang out with the girls that night.

Meanwhile, Leon had had a hard time not to obsessively think about the two young Redfields, in the throes of an extreme mixture of feelings, questioning his role as a friend in that absurd story. _What should I do?_

But inside that stinky brooms-stuffed room, on that fifth of November Monday morning, Leon sighed in surrender at the shrill trilling of the school bell that announced the lessons were resuming. "Fuck." He murmured under his breath.

"We ought to go now." Rebecca said, not concealing a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"Yeah… but I want to meet you again. We gotta talk."

"Listen Leon, if it's about what we heard, just drop it, ok?" she resentfully said. "I don't even care…"

Leon widened his eyes in disbelief and lastly mentally cringed at himself for his stupidity. He was so into his new obsession that he had almost forgotten he was talking to the same girl that had stolen his breath with her kisses. No wonder she was expecting a whole different meeting! He had to make up his bloop and let her know he hadn't forgotten the _rest_ of what happened on that freaky Friday. Fortune favours the bold they say, therefore, he drew her into his sweetest kiss, wiping away her grudge with a caress on her cheek.

"Liar." He gruffed, smirking cheekily against her lips. And Rebecca thought he hadn't been any illegally hotter than that. "I know you're dying to know the truth about Chris and Claire!"

"Alright, you got m-"

"Just like I'm dying to kiss you again like on the other night." He continued, interrupting her. "Just the fucking school bell has a shitty timing."

By then downright molten in his embrace, with her mind intoxicated by his scent, the girl surprisingly got to restart a couple of her neurons and proposed Leon to exchange their numbers. "Just not to get our pockets full of papers... and save some trees." She giggled.

* * *

**Part 2 – Elementary**

Just a few hours before that nightly rushing on a lengthened bicycle, the two had texted. After a long exchange of verbal cuddles and banters, they tickled the real big loose end. And Leon and Rebecca found themselves sharing the same concern for their respective friends.

_Leon: I think we should talk with them. If the story of the switch is true, they might need someone to talk to._

**_Rebecca_**_: What? NO! Are you out of your mind?_

_Leon: I thought we were ok about finding out the truth_

**_Rebecca_**_: we are! but we can't just show up and ask them to blab something they kept hidden just because we're two snoopers!_

_Leon: so, what do you suggest we do?_

**_Rebecca_**_: Elementary, Leon. We need evidence. __E (clap) VI (clap) DENCE (clap)! __We find 'em, we smash 'em in their faces just like they lied at ours and then we lay back listening to their confession while sipping the winners' drink (devil grin)_

_Leon: (laughter) ok, Sherlock. How do we get EVIDENCE? (thumb up)_

**_Rebecca_**_: Well, our friends have been pretty good liars (frown) but... there's something that might have betrayed them all the time (smirk and starry-eyed grin)_

_Leon: and it is...? (side-glancing eyes)_

**_Rebecca_**_: Oh, it is handwriting, my dear (Horatio Cane sunglasses gif) _

Rebecca explained that she once read that handwriting is like your hand's _accent_, and that funny statement had flashed in her head while doing her homework earlier on and something simply clicked. If the body switch was true, thus Claire had been actually Chris and vice versa… so their "_accents_" had switched as well!

Damn, now all those times she'd seen Claire so nervously hide her copybooks, all the reproaches she got for not taking notes during classes… it all was so corroborating! The puzzle was recomposing. One piece at a time.

They just needed to get to the smoking gun so their friends and all their lies would be screwed once and for all!

But where to find some without breaking into their house like burglars?

Well, there she delivered the second _elementary_ of the day.

* * *

The night came much slower than their rushing to Raccoon City High School on a tandem.

Rebecca imposed herself not to call their research mission a date, despite the she-tiger inside her head who went nuts and hollered like a hooligan. It was just a matter of collecting documentation… alright, alright, it was late at night with her crush, and they'd be side by side in a lonely place but… but sure as hell it was no date!

After all, they weren't even alone.

"Jill's already there!" Rebecca announced from the backseat of that fanciful tandem, shoving her phone back into her pocket.

Leon hummed a nod and began riding faster even if, inwardly, he was dubious about the opportunity of extending their overnight "secret date" to a third person – especially when it was about something that might make them look like two complete gullible idiots. "By the way, why did you tell her?" he asked, trying to sound neutral.

"I couldn't not tell her!" Rebecca bluntly explained.

Leon could only shake his head and put his inquiry off. He had to admit those girls were as thick as thieves when it came to gossip, so it was already quite a victory that Rebecca hadn't bleated it all out to Claire herself!

"And does she believe us?" he questioned.

"Well… uh…" Rebecca mumbled. "She's sceptical but curious."

Sceptical… such a euphemism!

Jill had brushed it off as total rubbish for quite the whole evening and Rebecca kinda sensed her friend had lastly given in and accepted to come over only to please her. "If that's what it does to your mind, I'll never let you drink tequila ever again, Becky!" Jill had said.

With hearts in their throats both for the long ride and for the adrenaline of being implementing such a genial but risky plan, transgressing literally every single behaviour society expected them to stick to, they parked the tandem behind some bushes and walked to the school gym's emergency exit.

Jill was waiting for them in the dark, halfway between already regretting having heeded her friend's ravings and the nostalgia for the comfy warmth of her bed. If she still stood there shivering in the cold, it was only because she thought highly of Leon. If the boy was involved in such surreal bullshit, then… maybe… it wasn't that much of a bullshit. Otherwise, the only remaining reasonable explanation she could muster was that some synthetical drug had been blended in that toxic liquor – which would also explain that _must-have-been-a-mirage_ so realistic kiss of Chris's!

Furthermore, keeping an eye on how he would behave around Rebecca would do no harm. He might even have had the reputation of a good boy but… better safe than sorry, right? Especially when the nice guy takes you out on a late-night date to put up a full-fledged effraction!

"Alright." Leon sighed. "Are we all ready?"

The girls nodded, one more determined than the other, but both extremely curious._ In for a penny, in for a pound._

"Let's synchronize our watches!" Leon joked to break the ice.

"What? Why? We're not even parting ways!" Rebecca cringed.

"They do it in movies." Leon cackled. "I always dreamed of saying it!"

"Oh we got an action man, here…" Rebecca cooed.

"There's just one thing I still don't get." Jill intervened, utterly unimpressed by the cheesy and lame flirting going on. "How do you plan to get in?"

Taking a deep breath, Leon extracted a set of keys from _one of his_ _fancy_ _pockets_. "With these." He replied. "We'll get into the school by the gym."

"How have you got them?!" Rebecca gushed, astonished, staring at the tiny brilliant sticks of steel.

"Well, Luis the janitor owed me one." He gloated while fiddling with the keyhole to open the fire exit.

The acquaintances he had slowly been gaining down at the RPD, got him to be able to ask a cop who had taken a liking on him to close an eye to the school gym's handyman's speeding ticket. And how to ever say no to such a kind, angel-faced and nice guy like him?

"That's so cool, Leon!" Rebecca exulted.

"And he didn't question _why_ you need the gym keys by night?" Jill asked, more cautious and pragmatic that her dreamy friend, regretfully following the two into the gym.

Leon turned and, walking backwards, he flashed a seductive smile that took the girls' breaths away. "I told him I wanted to impress a girl with a romantic screw in the swimming pool."

"Sounds like an awesome date…" Rebecca sassed, mentally shouting in need to that huge load of naughtiness. She had so many fucking chances to be that lucky girl now.

_A date on Monday?!_ Jill wondered, but she had to raise her hands to that show-off of cocky confidence by the captivating reply of Leon's.

Opening one door after another, they finally managed to leave the gym behind and get into the actual school. To walk the corridors in the night's darkness had a very peculiar fashion. The flashlight they carried along casted long and dense shadows, managing to brighten only a brief tract of darkest hallways that otherwise seemed to emerge from pitch-darkness just to be engulfed by it anew as they walked forward.

They proceeded silently, being careful that the only audible noise was their shoes hitting the linoleum floor. It was like walking in a third-class horror movie and the sneaky kids had to focus even more on their quest now that ancestral fears threatened their minds. The school is a safe place, especially when desert, but night-time obscurity can give shaky knees even to the bravest people.

"Ugh… Can't believe I'm in the school for the second time in a day!"" Jill huffed, more to alleviate the heaviness of their transgressive sneaking than to entertain a conversation.

"Does it make you feel any better if I tell you it's been tomorrow for two hours?" Rebecca joked.

"Oh yes! Thanks Becky! Now it's just alright." Jill deadpanned.

"Girls." Leon murmured to catch their attention and pointed at a specific point in front of him.

At the end of the last empty corridor, the archive.

Beyond that metal door, tests, quizzes, essays and papers of all the school's students were accurately stored. They approached, almost holding their breaths and, without wasting time, Leon grasped the handle…

"Fuck! It's locked!" he grunted.

Oh, yeah. _Locked_, you brain-box! What did you expect? A red carpet and blinding spotlights?

* * *

Leon was awestruck. "You must be fucking with me!"

The deft and grace in which Jill had picked the metal door were downright impressive. With a crooked smirk, the girl had pushed the boy aside and knelt before the door, tinkering with some curious thin sticks she had shoved into the keyhole.

"Where did you learn that?!" Leon exclaimed as the lock clicked and Jill opened the door.

Leon didn't necessarily have to discover _all_ the truth on that night, did he? The girls telepathically agreed not to breathe a word about the unorthodox childhood of Jill's, when her father used to live on pilferage before he'd officially retire from thievishness and converted to the honourable life of a taxi driver.

"Well... let's just say it's in my blood." Jill shrugged at the boy and winked at Rebecca over her shoulder.

"Do you always go around with lockpicks in your pocket?" Leon sarcastically asked, making his way into the dark room. Not really sure he would investigate that unexpected side of his new sneak-in mate. Then again, he sure did not!

"Normally, I don't. But normally I don't break into public buildings either!" Jill replied, following him right behind.

"Fair enough." Leon shrugged and reached out in the dark, gropingly searching for the light switch.

None of them had ever set foot in the archive before that night so they had a purely personal idea of how that room was. They expected everything but the predictable forest of high metal racks that materialized under the first flickering blinks of the cold light.

Boxes!

Stored on the several shelves there were uncountable boxes.

"Holy shit!" Rebecca's shrill yell ringed in the air causing Jill to cringe in disapproval and Leon to chuckle. "This place smells like old paper and bad grades!"

"Where do we start?" Leon sighed.

"Well, I guess we gotta figure out how they store things in here first!" Jill suggested, not less dispirited than the others.

"Let's get moving, guys!" Rebecca cheered.

The trio began skim reading the labels glued on the dusty boxes, growing astonished as long as they came by files that dated back a couple of decades. No wonder they could even find their parents' texts in there! It took them a while before they got to decipher the code in which the documents were arranged, but in the end they found several boxes containing also their friends' papers. Now it was all about figuring out which one to pick.

"I got Chris's!" Leon announced.

"And I got Claire's here!" Jill said, hopping towards the lopsided old desk upon which her mates had unceremoniously poured over the load of a couple of boxes. "Which subjects do you have?"

"History and… uh, English!" Leon answered. "What about you?"

"English."

"Alright, guys." Rebeck Holmes started, resuming that cute focused gaze she had anytime she had to rack her brains. "We all agree that if this body-switching thing is true, it must've happened in the last month, one month and a half at maximum, right?"

Both the boy and the girl nodded. They couldn't deny their friends had been a hell of a lot like two freaks in those last weeks. If any weird business had fucked up their lives it must've been recent fresh shit.

"Good. Let's suppose we have a two months long window time. September and October to be clear. We can compare their essays with last year's ones and check if the handwritings correspond!"

Trying not to mess too much around, they soon produced the sought documents. With extreme care, the kids handled the sheets containing two essays about English literature written by Chris. They arranged them on the little desk they had specifically cleared. The shadows their curious heads casted obscured the already mediocre light descending from the ceiling, nevertheless none of them beckoned to peel their noses back from the papers. Taking advantage of the icy light of their torch, they analysed the two writings.

When they finally plucked away, they all had the same scowl printed on their faces.

No difference.

The essays of both periods of time were just identical in everything but the content.

"Shit." Leon grunted, smashing a sheet against the metal tube of the nearest rack. "We drew a damn blank!"

Jill was already prone to turn on her heels and head home, by then totally convinced that she was hands-down the dumbest of them all for having let them drag her into such a bottomless foolishness, when Rebecca slammed her open palm square on her forehead in an exaggerated manner.

"I'm a total imbecile!" Rebecca yelled.

Leon wished to contradict her but the truth was, he felt like an idiot as well. After all, it had been precisely him to drag Rebecca in a research of the absurd. The bubble had been pricked and he seemed to wake up only now. Damn, how could he even have believed the Redfields didn't notice there were two drunk kids making out in their pantry?! They most likely just fooled him and Rebecca and tricked them to believe their idiocy… so whimsical and even too well improvised but… oh, they had fucked with them in grand style and they had fallen in their trap like two children!

"Are you realizing it only now?" Jill cracked up, determined to have a laugh at her friend's expenses. Becky kinda owed her.

Rebecca gave her the finger. "Actually… we all are imbeciles!"

"What do you mean?" Leon questioned.

"The essays!" Rebecca enthused, shaking the sheet in the air with vigour. "We all do them at home! So it's quite obvious that the handwriting is the same as each one wrote their own!"

"Fuck me… it makes sense!" Leon mumbled in realisation.

_Oh, I wish I fucked you, boy…_

Rebecca cleared her throat and her mind from that smutty thought and continued in her investigation. "We have to change the subject! We must choose one in which they _must_ do the test in the classroom but that wouldn't imply only multiple choice questions!"

They all exchanged a look and uttered in unison "Maths!"

Once they spotted the right boxes – and it took them another eternity, they pulled out some new paper sheets.

"Look, here!" Rebecca gasped. "This one is Chris's from last year whereas this other here dates back to last October the first. Look at the signatures on it!"

"Well… they look pretty similar…" Jill susurrated with little conviction.

"But they're not identical!" Rebecca pointed out, with the pride of who knows is on the right track. "Last year Chris's writing is… shitty."

"Yeah… Chris holds the pen like a caveman!" Leon cackled.

"Whilst October Chris…" _Rebeck Holmes _continued and trailed off, enjoying the sight of her friend's faces shifting from discouragement and scorn to purest incredulity.

"Oh, Jesus!" Jill wheezed. "Look at those letters! And… oh my gosh, those numbers _two_!"

Leon's eyes shuttled between the two sheets and faltered "they're rounder…"

"This is not enough." Rebecca murmured to herself. She needed a helluva smoking gun, not just some rounder figures scribbled on a test. It wasn't corroborant enough. Chris could easily contradict her by saying that his handwriting had simply improved. And she couldn't absolutely force him to write in front of her to prove it.

_Think, Rebbie, think!_

Out of the blue, a new lightbulb turned on in that room. Rebecca precipitated towards a box they had discarded on the floor and furiously rummaged in it. At the confused question of Leon's, Rebecca babbled that they weren't giving enough importance to the fact that _both_ had switched bodies. "If Chris has been in Claire's body… and if he holds the pen like fucking Fred Flintstone…" she panted, finally pulling out some of Claire's papers. "Then Claire… I mean, the fake one… he must've had a very hard time in trying to write as harmoniously as his sister!"

Rebecca tilted the pages to have them perfectly illuminated and read them through. Her legs simply sagged as she handed them over to Jill and Leon.

"Ffffuck... me..." Leon breathed as his heartbeats began maddening.

"If this is Claire's handwriting, then I'm a fucking penguin!" Jill exclaimed.

* * *

The night was already eschewing the first, faint gleam of dawn when the tandem's brakes screeched on the sidewalk opposite Chambers'. Rebecca unclasped her helmet and shoved it back into the front basket.

Planting both feet on the ground, Leon stretched his sore neck backwards and sighed. Now that the surreal story had gained consistency, now that he had pics of fucking _evidence_ stashed in his phone, he seemed even more worried than he had been in the morning.

Rebecca noticed his pensive frown and approached, sitting side-saddle on the crossbar and slid between his arms as he leaned forward to grab the handlebars again to keep the big bicycle balanced. Gently, she fiddled with the chinstrap and pulled his helmet off. The two teens shared the same pair of dark circles and weary gaze. Their eyes had reddened both from the tiredness and the archive's merciless dust and closing them while kissing was a double relief. It was a short kiss, full of her gaiety and his honesty, but it was what they needed in that moment, let it be only not to go home on that not-a-first-date without having shared even a little peck.

"What's next, Sherlock?" Leon asked with a feeble voice, nuzzling the point of her nose with his.

"We shake ourselves a cocktail!" Rebecca joked.

"Drunkard." He chuckled. "Isn't it either too late or too early for a drink?"

"I didn't mean now!" she jokingly eyerolled. "We must have something to sip while they confess! Don't you remember?"

Leon forced a titter trying to feign he was in the mood for jokes, but his reddish eyes betrayed all his sadness. He lowered his head and rested it in the crook of her neck, careless that by doing so her poor tiny heart maddened even more. "We have to talk with them." He murmured against her skin still so heated up for the ride.

"Tomorrow. That's actually today... But later." She susurrated in his ear and, yawning, she added that it was either too late or too early to go to the Redfields by the way. Better take some rest and procrastinate it all.

Leon hummed in agreement and slumped an arm around her waist. "Rebecca."

God, she loved how he pronounced her name! So smooth and gruff at the same time. "Mh?" She moaned, expectantly, caressing his shoulders.

"There's something I have to tell you." Leon said, without raising his head from her neck. He didn't want her to look at him in the eyes while saying what he was going to say. "It's about Claire."

Rebecca frowned badly as she heard him spell that name with such concerned voice, but she pretended to ignore it. She simply rested her chin on his shoulder and incited him to go on.

"Chris is like a brother to me, and I reckon Claire's like a sister to you as well." He continued, his tone softening as she began caressing his nape.

A faint smile died as fast as it bloomed on her face. "Yeah… sister from another mister…" she sighed, more a memory whispered to remind herself than a blunt admission to Leon.

"While she was inside Chris apparently…" he resumed, by then no more incredulous when saying such things. "I reckon you gotta know that she was… sick."

Rebecca's hammering heart lost a beat. _Sick?!_

It was like a veil falling off her eyes. If Claire had been her brother for who knows how many weeks… she hadn't been with her. Discovering that she had missed so much of her friend, that Claire might have needed her and she wasn't _there… _by her side… it tore some strings inside her chest that hurt more than words can describe and all the chagrin was simply blown away.

"How sick?" she susurrated with barely the hint of a whisper. "Please, tell me the truth. At least you."

"I think she suffered from panic. She almost had a fucking heart attack in front of me." Leon murmured, and held her tighter, wringing his eyes at the memory of what he had witnessed at Kevin's, as it was now even more painful to remember. "I feared he… _she_… was gonna die in my arms."

Leon felt the girl under his mouth softly twitching as if she was having a hiccup. He peeled his head off her neck and glanced at her teary eyes.

"Hey…" he whispered in concern, kissing her cheek. "No, no, no… don't cry…"

Unable to hold back tears at the thought of her best friend suffering, Rebecca sniffled as two rivulets of shiny tears crossed her round cheeks. Claire had been through hell and all Rebecca could think about was a stupid little white lie her friend had told her for her sake! She thought she was the worst friend in the world!

"Please… Don't let me be the guy that made you cry on a first date!" Leon chuckled to cheer her up.

She wiped her tears with the hem of her sleeve and a coy smile cracked on her face. "Beware what you call a date! You owe me a helluva first date!" she joked and let out a babbling wet giggle. "You should really ask me out once and for all!"

Leon flashed a smile and kissed her again. "Will you go out on a real date with me whenever you like?"

"Sure!" the girl almost yelled. "But not today. Claire comes first."

* * *

**OMG did I just steal Claire's outstanding line and shoved it into Rebecca's mouth? Yes.**

**To anyone who's reading this, thank you from the bottom of my heart! **

**A little note for guest readers: as I always reply to reviews (because there's nothing like a good exchange of opinions) I will reply also to yours! So, if you haven't an account but want to write a review, go on, you'll find my reply in the review section as well!**

**Love, a Fangirl**

**P.S. don't you worry, Claire and Chris will come back in the next chapter!**


	23. Showdown (1 of 4)

**As promised, our beloved Redfields are back.**

**The subheadings of the whole chapter are all songs names. I can't say I like each one of those songs (actually I like only one so far, guess which one) but… who cares?**

**Let the show begin!**

**P.S. No pop singers nor Japanese composers nor Hermès designers paid me to be featured in this chapter. (*huffs)**

* * *

**Chapter 20 – Showdown (1 of 3)**

* * *

**Part 1 – Treacherous**

**Claire**_: Greets galz! You left me to put up with Wesker all by myself!_

Two hours of science to begin Tuesday mornings with must be declared a crime! Teen abuse, that's the name!

The week had just begun and it already hit hard with one hundred twenty minutes of pure boredom. To make things worse, on that morning Claire was enduring that creep of Albert Wesker all alone, as neither Jill nor Rebecca had shown up at the bus stop, without advising they'd have skipped school.

The only bright side in that matter was that at least she had spent some additional time with Chris as, extraordinarily, she joined his gang who, strangely, on that day counted a missing Leon since the boy had deserted the sidewalk gathering as well. Was there some kind of flu spreading? That was Carlos's conviction. He slyly highlighted that the only missing people had in common the party they all attended back on Friday night. Therefore, he sentenced, they all were dead-ass screwed since the spinning bottle had doomed 'em all! _Change my mind!_

Chris had brushed that idiocy off as total flimsy crap but inwardly he hoped Carlos was wrong and that the kiss he shared with Jill hadn't transmitted him any virus. Otherwise it was inevitable that Claire would've fallen ill shortly afterwards with all the necking, the cuddles and the sex they had shared during the weekend.

Although Chris's arm draped her shoulder and warmed her neck, Claire had felt alone on that sidewalk.

She missed Rebecca. Not only at school, but in general… in those last days she'd sensed her standoffish towards her, even though Claire continued repeating herself that it must be just her imagination. Ultimately, all Rebecca had done to elicit such doubts was only to ghost in their group chat, answering only with an emoji every now and then without her usual joy and never texted her privately a single time. Claire had tried to rationalize the thing as to find a logical explanation to Rebecca's behaviour. First and foremost, her friend had no reasons to ignore her. Furthermore, Rebecca had ditched them all on Saturday night as she still suffered from the hangover, albeit this was more than plausible. After all, back on Friday, when everyone had already left and only the girls remained in the house, Rebecca was passed out face-down on a couch as drunk as a skunk.

In the end, it was only Claire's intuition that suggested her best friend got some bad blood towards her. Nothing more. Yet, Claire couldn't get rid of that feeling.

That defection at the bus stop was only feeding those paranoid thoughts of her. Stupidly. But how could Claire ever imagine that her friends defaulted because they had returned home so late from a secret mission that they were just oversleeping?

"I see we have resumed dismissed habits, Miss Redfield!" the boring voice of Wesker crawled into her mind and caused her train of thoughts to derail brusquely. His tone was just the same as when he was teaching, thus hadn't he spelled her last name, Claire would've not realized he had actually stopped blathering about DNA. Wesker had been keeping an eye on her for a while from behind his sunglasses, curious to discover how far she would take her brazen inattention.

Claire shifted on her seat in discomfort and alarm and hid her phone inside her biker boot before he'd spot it and confiscated it. "I'm sorry, Mr Wesker."

By no means convinced by his gorgeous student's apology, Wesker clicked his tongue and simply resumed his lecture. He detested when his students didn't pay attention.

In the turn of a few minutes, the bell ring would've allowed Claire to go getting bored somewhere else far from that weirdo in dark shades.

A feeble vibration on her ankle signalled that someone had texted her. Hopefully, Rebecca had replied! Claire hoped so with all her heart but checking it now was out of question. She had teased Wesker's patience too much.

Claire glanced at the empty desk beside hers, impatiently. Just sixty-five minutes to go. Fuck it.

The trill ringed clear and arrogant, trumping the blond man's voice that finished assigning homework. Tuesday's science class was over. That was the occasion Claire was waiting for. She thrusted her hand inside her boot and pulled out her phone, whilst all her classmates chaotically stood up and left.

**_Ashley_**_: Lucky you, C! Annette here is a pain in the ass!_

Moira_: Watch your tongue, Graham! Don't touch my fave Birkin (heart) she's mine!_

**_Ashley_**_: you mean the bag?_

Claire eyerolled in disappointment and scorn.

She fast typed that she was actually referring to Becky and Jill and fucked the chat off to go to check her two friends last accesses.

_Maybe they haven't replied 'cause they haven't read it yet…_

Her jaw dropped as she discovered that both Jill and Rebecca last accesses dated back to around five in the morning.

_Ok, Claire. Steady now. Now don't think they were together badmouthing about you, ok? OK? You know them. They'd never do it._

Ugh... stupid meaningless coincidences. Claire trusted her friends! Then… why couldn't she suppress that rising sadness?

Lastly looking upwards from her phone's screen, Claire noticed too late not only that the room had emptied but also that Wesker was standing by her desk. Suddenly, Chris's terrified telling flashed back in her mind and made her shudder to the bone. It was happening again. She was going to be harassed by her teacher.

"Miss Redfield, are my lessons less important than whatever inanity you were doing with your mass-distraction device?" the man hissed, planting his open palm on the small desk to lean his slender frame onto it until his masculine, sunken face was just a few inches away for her.

"No, Mr Wesker." The redhaired uttered grabbing her bag and standing up.

"I have got reason to believe the contrary." The man contested in his nasal voice, his inscrutable eyes following her moves. "Your demeanour has undoubtedly improved since the _unfortunate_ vicissitude that involved your family has resolved."

Claire sensed there was a "but" coming and she really didn't want to be there when he'd have hissed it at her face. "I'm doing my best, Professor. Now I ought to hurry up to my next class. Would you please excuse me."

Wesker stopped her departure by reaching out an arm to bar her way and elegantly looped it around her shoulders with a smooth spin of his athletic body. It was like having a snake slithering around your neck and she felt a retch building in her belly. Being Wesker a good couple of spans taller than her, Claire's shoulder was carefully nestled under his armpit and she was so close to him that his manly scent filled her nostrils. His beguiling perfume was the sole good thing about him.

Underlining his every move with his signature chuckle, the teacher led her to his desk, walking like they were two sweethearts promenading in a park – although there was nothing sweet between them and sure as hell there was only one heart. Once there, he sat legs-spread on the desktop and took her hands in his. The hold around her petite hands was steady but mild, and it was gelid as if his fingers were ten tiny cold-blooded bony snakes. To be caressed by Wesker was like hairstyling Medusa, only that when the man took his shades off to hook it on the collar of his button-down revealing a few blond hairs, his gaze was far more petrifying than the mythological gorgon's.

"If I'm not wrong, I proposed you to recuperate the lesson you skipped with your recent absence, but apparently you are neglecting my consideration, _Claire_." He charmed, with mellow but monotonous voice. He sighed her name in such a hair-raising manner that Claire had to gulp down another gag of nausea. "It doesn't seem like how someone who is doing her best would behave."

Claire glared at him, but her endearing big blue eyes couldn't compete to his golden-streaked wells of perversion. Between all the crazy teachers she'd had in her school carrier so far, her new science teacher was the worst. A big fucking swine.

"Thanks, but I can study on my own. And if I'll ever need help, I got my brother Chris to reach out at home!" Claire stated, pulling her hands away those viscid paws but uselessly. Wesker didn't let her go that easily. His slimy hands slid to her wrist and tugged her closer to his towering frame and boastful smirk. Claire stood her ground and freed herself. Spelling Chris's name had instilled her courage and rage… lots of rage. Because now she perfectly knew what her brother had experienced and how bad he had felt when he'd been harassed by that same moron.

It was gut-wrenching.

"As you wish, Claire." Wesker purred, sniggering as he allowed her freedom. "I'll keep considering your behaviour in my valuations. When you'll wish to prevent all your nice _As_ to be frustrated by your lack of respect, call over to me."

Claire wanted to puke. Had the fucker just tried to blackmail her?

Wesker put his glasses back on and quitted paying any attention to her.

Differently, disgust followed her outside and it stuck into the back of her throat for the rest of the morning. Not even the hot water she poured over her hands right after got to wash away the frosty shadows of Albert's fingers. She sensed them as they were still clutched around hers. She couldn't really walk the feeling off, not until she stayed in his hunting ground.

For the second time in a few hours, Claire felt alone.

She couldn't simply summon her girl friends but she could hole up in the arms of the sole person in the world able to make her feel good. She just had to wait for that morning to be over and then, finally, Chris would've made her forget everything with his restoring kisses.

* * *

**Part 2 – Hello Kitty**

"C'mon, Claire! Let me finish!" Chris laughed.

Chris imperatively had to finish his homework before going to the gym and work his ass off on a total-body workout but, with Claire spread like a buffet all over his desk, focusing on numbers was fairly difficult. Besides, since his copybook laid squashed under her head, writing was impossible. It was mid-afternoon, of one of those weekdays in which Chris's schedule was the busiest and he had to make every minute count but, on that day, his plans were meant to be screwed.

His sister had simply got into Man's Cave and, like a cat seeking cuddles, she had started teasing him at first, then rubbed against him and lastly, she claimed the due attentions by inserting her whole lusty body between her owner and his maths book.

"Cuddles." She mewled.

Chris jokingly threatened to write on her face with the highlighter but there was no way to make her desist. "Look, I'll draw a nice moustache right under your nose!"

"Not bad. If I can stand your stubble you can do the same with my tiny blue whiskers!" she giggled and pursed her lips into a kiss, raising her head to meet his and magnetize him into her mouth.

It was an unusual position for a kiss but none complained, the angle was rather weird, but it didn't affect the sharp pleasure that rushed through their limbs. Anytime Chris beckoned to raise his head, her hands would catch it and draw it down back to its place again – on her lips. He played along for a while, teasing her, but in the end he gave in, slid a forearm under her neck and focused only on smothering her with kisses.

"Do you know that if tomorrow I'm showing up without my homework done, Ada's gonna beat me up?" Chris said softly, alternating words with licks, kisses, tender bites and quiet hums.

Claire wide-eyed watched him as he spoke under closed eyes and caught his lower lip in her teeth as to don't let him go when he finished. She wanted, she _needed_ some more of him. But eventually she decided to let him study and sat upright grumbling something about that bitch in pantyhose and a possible improper use of her stiletto heels. Albeit she had an immense want for him, she'd have waited until later that night. After all those times she had acted childish and unmindful in the last week, she wanted to show she could act as responsibly as him. Even if the sky would fall down, she'd have _not_ failed him again.

"Alright. You study, nerd." She purred, smacking a kiss on his temple. "But tonight you're mine!"

"I'm always yours, baby." Chris cheered.

Claire hopped down the desk and slumped onto the big bed, grasping some random magazine she found on the nightstand. Outstretched crosswise and belly-down, she absently browsed the comic magazine until a satisfied grin popped up on her face as she felt the mattress lower and squeeze under her.

Not even the menace of a harsh reproach by the Evil Queen herself got to overcome Chris's burning desire his sister had so easily ignited. He laid down upon her, covering her like a blanket, being careful to grind her body without oppressing it and began kissing her neck from behind.

He knew her. Now that she was back behind her real face, he could read her like an open book and on that afternoon he had read disquietude. And nothing in the whole world was more important than giving her the medicine she needed.

"Just a few more minutes... okay?" He susurrated with a rough voice.

"A few minutes will do." Claire breathed in gratitude.

It was all it'd take her to feel good under his magic touch. Both were perfectly aware that they'd not get past a simple making-out as it was too early and risky but… it was almost snack time, right? What's wrong with having a snack to sedate the hunger? They'd reserve the main course for later.

"Are you doing anything on Sunday night?" Chris asked at some point while having fun in nibbling at her earlobe. _Except me, my love._

"Are you asking me out?" She replied, resting her head on her arms crossed as to form a pillow.

"Not really. The boys will be there too."

"Oh, you want an old-style gangbang then!"

"You bimbo!" he snorted, adding just a little pinch of force in his bite, only that much enough to make her mewl in protest. "Ryman wants to introduce us his girl."

"Oh my God! He made a move on her then!" Claire gushed, smiling from ear to ear. "I knew he could get her! Her name's Pamela, right?"

"Mh-mh." Chris hummed, rubbing again on her, and resuming his trail of wet kisses below her jawline. "Speaking of, because of you now everyone thinks I'm sorta women's mind magician!"

"You're welcome." Claire sassed, closing her eyes.

In that awful month she had been inside his body, Claire had more than once dared to regale little hints at Kevin on how to make a good impression on that girl he met on the internet and wanted so bad to date. It was hard not to be a girl and to keep her spontaneity, curiosity and female wisdom at bay when it came to friends dating but, not to raise suspicions, she had always tried to keep it general, as she had no idea how her brother used to talk about girls with his mates. Anyway, she must've been a pretty convincing Chris as Kevin never quirked a single eyebrow at all her tips.

"By the way, what have I got to do with you guys?" Claire asked, moaning softly at his tender tease.

"Kevin asked us to bring some girls as well not to make her feel uneasy in a band of jerks like us."

"Isn't Piers enough?"

Chris guffawed amused. "No! Piers on a Sunday night means he's shitfaced by eight p.m.! And Carlos is still uncertain whether Sheva will want to hang out with us or not, so I thought I could ask you." And growling out a laugh he added "the alternative would be tucking Leon into a blonde wig and a tube skirt."

Claire laughed hard at such occurrence, giggling that it would be one helluva good show but it would've costed the reputation Pamela had of Kevin for sure. "I'll go out with you guys. I'm too curious to know her!"

That said, she turned turtle below him and welcomed him in her mouth anew, both moaning softly. He straddled her sides with his thick thighs and held her head with both hands. That position was dangerously hot, but Chris made sure to keep an ear out to be ready to buck aside at the slightest noise coming from the stairs.

Apparently, on that day the fate had other plans in store for Chris than either solving logarithms or indulging in a passionate exploration of his sister's cleavage with his lips, as in the turn of a few more minutes, the clear voice of their mother called them from downstairs, announcing they had visitors.

Huffing, Chris sat up next to her and slapped a sound pat on Claire's butt, who had turned away from him to replace his missing overhanging mass with his pillow. "Mom called both of us! Let's go, kitty!"

She mewled in protest and wiggled her legs, but eventually climbed off bed.

Waiting for them in the living room there were Leon, Rebecca and Jill. The surprise on the siblings' faces was surpassed only by the loudness of Claire's shout of joy as she ran into the arms of her two friends.

"Are you here to return the virus we lent you?" Chris joked, remindful of Carlos's airy-fairy suspicion.

"Oh girls, we thought you had fallen sick!" Claire smiled, happy to see them safe, sound and healthy.

The three guests exchanged a look that left the two Redfields perplexed. Something was off.

"We gotta talk." Leon stated in earnest face and determined voice.

* * *

**Part 3 – Looming Dread**

Claire had quitted minimizing as soon as they had recounted to have hidden inside the pantry, whereas Chris had fallen into a cautious silence since the very first mention of having heard them talk inside the closet in Girly Room – he remembered too well the level of his talking's explicitness and that alone was enough for him to shudder in fear even if, so far, Rebecca hadn't alluded to any… siblings planning to fuck in a walk-in closet.

The recount of their – allegedly not – private dialogues was so detailed and emphasized that it made them feel almost like two heretics under the scrutiny of the Inquisition.

Sitting on the two-seater sofa, both siblings strived to keep a neutral expression, a blank face that wouldn't betray the whirlwind of emotions that raged within their chests. When she was growing nervous he was growing scared. Although when they showed them the photos of their tests – the evidence – none of them was anymore able to hide anything and their faces transfigured into two canvases of ravaging feelings.

Chris gritted his teeth in jitters.

Where did those three get off to show up in their house to snoop then and to put the screws on them to confess their secret now?! Who did they think they are?! Furthermore… which secrets did they know? How much had they really overheard and how much more of what they'd discovered they were keeping from them?

Chris blanched.

What if… what if they had figured out everything? Ultimately, if he and his sister hadn't succeeded into keeping secret the body-swap in spite of all their efforts, who assured them that also all the precautions they were taking to protect their newly blossomed incestuous love couldn't be as easily violated? Or worse… who assured them it hadn't been violated yet?

That ought not to happen! Chris would've never let anyone – _anyone!_ – to nose around in his intimacy scot-free!

"How can such a bullshit even cross your minds?" Chris lowly blustered on the defensive, maybe in one last thinly concealed, desperate attempt in denying the obvious or maybe… as a last warning that they were crossing a line they better not cross.

"Oh, maybe 'cause we're like... your _friends_?" Rebecca reposted, planting her clenched fists onto her hips to underline her firmness.

"Friends don't eavesdrop, snoop and pry into what's none of their fucking business!" Chris snarled like a dog ready to assault an intruder, causing everyone – Claire included – to shudder at his overweening burst of anger.

"Easy, son."

The warm, charming voice of Robert Redfield intervened from behind the couch his kids were sitting on. His calm tone was like a bucket of fresh water sloshed into a room that had abruptly heated-up. He emerged from the entrance of the staircase that led to the basement where he had descended earlier as the boiler needed some fixing. As it apparently had become quite a habit in that house to eavesdrop, Robert had leaned against the thin plasterboard wall that separated the stairs from the living room and had carefully listened to every word the three young guests had spelled. He cursed himself for his imprudence back on Friday, he should've checked no one was around – even if groping a girl inside the pantry was hands-down a commendable move!

"Denying any further is pointless." Robert said, approaching the sofas the young crowd occupied and rested a warm hand on his firstborn's shoulder, to soothe his nerves and to reassure him that _he got this_. "And also harmful, I dare say."

Robert called his wife to come over and join him in the living room. While Lily sat beside her children, Rob adjusted himself upon the bordeaux pouffe and mentally questioned himself one last time about the opportunity to go further. The downcast gaze of his daughter and the edgy look on his son's face washed away the last shreds of doubts. They had been even too obedient to the burdensome imposition of secrecy he and the company he worked for had subjugated them to. It was about time to slacken the leash.

It was with a sombre tone that the scientist recounted of the heartstopping accident that blasted into his underground lab and its extraordinary outcome, then of how he and his team of brainiacs had managed to fix everything only after a hardest month during which his kids had to yield to play the one the role of the other, learning against their will to live with an everyday life that was anything but pleasant or easy or familiar.

Albeit the guests already had the proofs of the ungodly truth in their palms since the previous night, the accurate telling left them speechless. Hadn't they seen with their very own eyes the unequivocal traces in black and white, and hadn't they a great esteem of their friends' father as a certainly trustworthy adult, they'd have had a hard time in gulping down that story. It still was unbelievable. The thought that such perilous, nuclear-materials involving experiments were carried so close to their houses was uncanny.

And it was heart-breaking. The details of the explosion pierced their hearts. Metaphorically, the thick glass screen was still flinging shards after all that time.

Rebecca was listening with the smug face of a police officer that after lengthy investigations had lastly gotten her hands on the tip-off she'd been waiting for so long. The puzzle had finally come to a solution and it pictured a twisted story of sci-fi horror.

Jill, instead, she looked condescendingly at Claire's father, utterly unimpressed by his words. Among those who had knocked at the Redfields' door on that sunny afternoon, she had been the most reluctant. Her scepticism was hard to give in and not even the collected evidence had really managed to convince her that for a whole month she had been side to side with a totally different person without noticing. Of course, she had to admit that Claire's handwriting was undoubtedly _not_ hers, but to believe the unbelievable was an entirely different thing! She needed to ruminate it all a little more.

Leon, lastly, was the one morally more involved in that discussion. All that story was provoking his conscience on several sides.

"Mister Redfiel-"

"Call me Robert, son."

"Robert, is this machinery of yours still in the hands of Umbrella?"

"Yes, sure." The older man shrugged, not really foreseeing where the boy was driving at with his question and his good-heartedness brimming, limpid eyes.

"Such an infernal contraption ought to be destroyed immediately!" Leon exclaimed, surprising everyone with his alarmed tone.

"Son…"

"Call me Leon."

"Leon, I don't get why I should outright flush hours of the hardest work of my career down the drain!" Robert bluntly replied, feigning to be offended whilst, conversely, a disingenuous gleam glistened in his sky-blue gaze.

"Think about it, sir! You all think about it!" Leon spelled, standing up and addressing to the confused audience that stared at him wide-eyed. "If this devilry allows people to transfer a person into the body of another, it will turn out as the greatest danger for mankind since Nazism!"

"Leon, aren't you overstating it?" Rebecca snickered. "Even worse than Hitler. C'mon!"

"Yes, Becky!" Leon continued, without losing his typical politeness and courteous tone but neither softening the scolding look that ripped the smile off the girl's face. "Such a machinery will just let everyone to assure themselves eternal life by simply passing from a body to another!"

"So what? The whole medical science has been aiming to it for centur-" Rebecca tried to rebut without having truly gotten the gist of the boy's words. Before she'd have spelled anything stupid, Leon cut her off, with a scandalized voice.

"Think of the worldwide human trafficking it will lead to!" he yelled, heated-up and scared before turning again to stare dead into Robert's eyes. "How many millions of people will be seized, enslaved, exploited or even _conceived_ to allow some upper crust moneybags the privilege to do not die?!"

The blond boy's heartfelt words froze the living room.

Whereas his inquiry-mates had focused only on the petty consequences that involved their friends, Leon had been far more clear-sighted and his mind had fast jumped to conclusions there were not even that much unlikely.

"You're really insightful, Leon. I like you, kid!" Robert said at some point, looking at him with the same fatherly admiration he usually addressed to his son. "As far as your theory might seem a realistic menace, I can assure you that Umbrella has not even the slightest intention to use this new technology. They set to dismantle it."

"Oh, yes, sir. And do you believe it?" Leon scoffed. "I don't think the fat cats leading your company will have many scruples before the perspective of unheard-of earnings!"

"You're right, clever boy! They won't. They never did and will never start!" Robert replied. "The Umbrella Corporation is a pharmaceutical industry, let's keep it in mind. We make money off of mankind's illnesses if you want to put it that way." And shifting onwards, Robert glanced a sly and amused look at the boy. "Now you tell me, son, which pharmaceutical company would ever be so stupid and short-sighted to trade _eternal life_? _Immortality_?"

Leon faltered. His silence offered Robert the chance to hush and nip in the bud those perspicacious but wrong convictions before they'd turn into dangerous rumours. Temporarily putting off the tone of the loving _pater familias_ to pick up the one of the diligent scientist loyal to the organization he belongs to.

"The Umbrella has all the interest in maintain human beings mortal and vulnerable, and fearful of death, as to sell them its medicines and vaccines. Believe me Leon, they make so much money that any other alternative is inconvenient! Death is our greater alley as it compels people to ask for a cure." He said without caring much of looking cynical. "And I'll tell you more son, I myself have signed a non-disclosure agreement regarding the whole matter and the discoveries done by me and the fellow scientists under my lead specifically to prevent that unprincipled other companies might set their sights on our people-switcher. That's why I expect you all to do the same!" he added, staring intensely at each one of the teens sitting in front of him, his kids included.

Rebecca gulped down the bitter pill and nodded, not caring to hide a certain emotion. Jill's face was inscrutable but sadness was rising fast under her skin. Lastly, Leon. After holding the meaningful gaze of the older man, his look eventually dropped to the ground.

"If you care about mankind's fate, you can all use my kids as an example and shut up about anything you heard today." Robert said, just to coerce the concept into the minds of three teenagers and, at last, to lead the discussion back to the laudable behaviour his children had kept at cost of unmentionable sorrow. "Whatever it takes. However it hurts."

Those last words had the hoped effect.

Jill, Rebecca and Leon averted their eyes onto the two siblings who, holding hands, had remained silent all the time. Listening to their father narrative of all the events that since that infamous 24th of September had fucked up their serenity was like mentally relive a nightmare, that now surfaced on their strung-up faces.

The three couldn't help but feeling a tug at the heart for the apologizing looks on their friends. They had showed up to rub at their faces that they had uncovered their house of cards and were ready to offer their help but they had ended up pitying them and feeling guilty instead.

"Let's go, darling." Lily said to her husband, giving one last stroke on her son's wide back before standing up. "Let's give them some privacy now."

The only two adults had barely the time to disappear behind the dining room wall that Rebecca and Jill rushed into Claire's arms, all of them sobbing quietly, even though Claire smiled, happy to have her best friends back by her side and relieved as she had to lie to them no more.

Leon and Chris instead exchanged just a swift fleeting glance, before the big older guy looked away, massaging his temples nervously. Chris eventually stood up and headed to the front door, most likely because he wanted to run away the tempest of questions Rebecca was pouring down on his sister rather than he needed to walk. "Wanna smoke." He just said, bringing his wide shoulders out of the living room.

Leon was unsure on how to interpret it. Was it an invitation to share a cigarette or did his friend just wish to be alone and mind his own business? Leon was fairly sure the second option was the rightest, but he followed him outside all the same. Alike the girls, they needed to talk too.

* * *

**This chapter is growing longer than I**** imagined so, once again, you'll have to settle for a three parted release.**

**Next part will come out next week. Until then, let me know what you think about it so far or what your guesses are for what's coming.**

**:D**

**P.S. Oh, yeah, I loved writing the Wesker scene.**


	24. Showdown (2 of 4)

**Am I one day late? :D**

**Here's to you the second part of Showdown. The playlist continues. Guys need to talk and far it be from me to make them wait.**

* * *

**Chapter 20 – Showdown (****2 of FOUR)**

* * *

**Part 4 – Kiss**

November is a kooky month. It already looks like winter but it can effortlessly trick you with a halo of springtime on its best sunny days.

The sun was setting and oblique sunrays cut through the nude trees of the neighbourhood. It was such a beautiful afternoon! So clear, limpid and bright. The air chillness was still stingy but it was nothing a good hoodie – like the one Chris was wearing – couldn't screen.

Propped against the wooden column that sustained the indigo slate porch's roof, the big boy absently puffed his cigarette, intently staring at some vague point in the neighbour's garden past the street with a poorly feigned interest.

With the front door shutting behind himself, Leon cupped his hands before his mouth and struck the sparkwheel of his zippo to light a cigarette. While sucking in to ignite the combustion, Leon looked at his friend. Even from behind he could read his deep thinking. Leon stalked to the other column and joined Chris's silent staring. He rested his shoulder against it and pretended to be counting the cognac fallen leaves sticking out of the front lawn's viridity.

The porch had just embellished itself of two new handsome Caryatids.

Temporarily averting his eyes from the messy autumnal ground, Leon side glanced at Chris. He knew that thoughtful gaze of him and he knew it was all just about giving him the time he needed. He only had to be there and wait.

Likewise, Chris was aware there was a truckload of things that needed to be talked out between them and he didn't feel like postponing it – albeit he didn't feel like talking either. He imagined the amount of questions that stormed in Leon's mind and he knew he was incapable of stopping them. He somehow had foreseen the conversation coming on as bound to happen in the very moment his friends had sat their asses on his couch.

_The sooner, the better._

"If you're wondering, I'm the one you kissed on my veranda." Chris rumbled and went straight to the sore point, before taking a deep drag to replace all the breath in his lungs with as much smoke as he could. Nicotine. Nicotine. Nicotine.

Leon ducked his head and snorted.

He had already guessed that but to hear it from Chris's very lips and voice… it was so insane! That kiss – if it can even be called that way – was unforgettable. But not as he wished. Not as a kiss with Claire would surely be. Actually what was arrogantly vivid in his mind, wasn't the softness of _her_ lips or the scent of her skin, rather it was the memory of Clai-… well, _Chris's_ glare through Claire's eyes. No wonder the fake girl had wished to kill him on the spot 'cause it was no girl at all!

Although… there was a detail he couldn't manage to get. The last puzzle piece.

"Why did you look at me that way though?"

Chris huffed out a rough chuckle. "Dang, Leon! How was I supposed to look at you?! I was my sister and my fucking best friend had just kissed..._ us_!"

"I didn't mean _that_ look, dumbass!" Leon tittered. "But the one _before_ I kissed you."

Chris was confused. He failed to recall the detail his friend was referring to, so Leon briefly described the intensity that had spurted out Claire's blue eyes and he swore he had read flaming desire in it. "Otherwise I'd have never dared to kiss your sister, you know it! I believed she was just shy or so… but now it turns out it was _you_ and I don't know what to think!"

Chris side-glanced at him and burst out in a hearty laugh. He had to hold his chest for how hard he laughed.

In front of the offended scowl on Leon's face for that lack of tact and disrespect towards his feelings, Chris eventually apologetically shook his head and, with the pad of his thumb, he wiped away the tiny tears his outburst had smeared through his dark eyelashes. "Keep your shirt on, Kennedy! You're not my kind, you lecher!"

"Uff, you know I don't think you're gay, Chris!" Leon eyerolled. "I'm just confused and I wanna know if I was seeing things."

"You weren't hallucinating. I think I really might've looked at you... uhm... in need...?" Chris grimaced. "You had a fucking cigarette tucked in your mouth and I hadn't touched one in days!" He slyly gruffed.

Leon took a drag and chuckled in self-pity. Not only Claire had never really kissed him, but not even her mere body had looked at him in want! Was in the world a girl more impossible to get? "Christ. I'm a dweeb even with fake girls!"

"No, my friend, you're not." Chris mumbled, assuming a serious expression. He turned to face him and slanted his back against the column, planting one foot on the lower step for balance. "You are a nice guy. Okay, I wanted to punch the shit out of you back then, not gonna lie 'bout that... but I gotta admit you were a true gentleman." He continued, pushing his renewed jealousy aside for a moment. "To you, that girl was Claire and your respectful apology is all I need to remember to know you are one of a kind. Had she really been there with you on that day, I could've never hoped for a better dude for her to turn down." He concluded, with a sly smirk, just not to be overdramatic.

"Oh thanks!... I think." Leon giggled. Not even in a hypothesis the sister-rule could be broken. "God… I fucking literally flirted with danger that day!" he snorted. "Phew! Now I really can't believe I survived a kiss to _you_ inside _your sister_!"

Indeed, Leon had gone down in history that day in the veranda. He had succeeded into getting Chris to the ultimate stage of destructive wrath with the combo brotherly jealousy plus homosexual shock!

"You're welcome." Chris sassed.

"Kudos to your self-control." Leon deadpanned, and hooked the butt of his cigarette between his lips just that enough to suck a long puff.

"Don't thank me. Thank Claire instead. If I _never_ freaked out it was only for her sake." Chris muttered, trying to muffle the rising memory of Wesker's harassment with a keenly inhaled drag of smoke. Nicotine!

"Does that count as a near-death experience?" Leon joked.

"Well… considering how bad I wanted to erase you from the planet, yes." Chris laughed.

Leon snorted derisively. "Then I guess it goes straight up into my resume."

Chris blew out a hoarse laugh.

"Oh, it's such a pity I can't tell Piers I kissed you!" Leon laughed, flicking the cigarette to shake off the ash. "He kinda ships us together!"

Chris cackled and commented Nivans' twisted imagination and his eagerness to acquire a new cousin apparently, but the mention of him, suddenly brought back the memory of another weird event that had involved fake Chris and Leon.

"Wait a moment…" Leon gushed, waving a pensive hand to unravel his sudden discovery. "So Claire was _you_ at Carlos's! AHAHAH! Now all that passion makes fucking sense! Man, that stool was on fire!"

Among his amused laughs, Leon couldn't help but inwardly quirk a brow at the memory of that scene and at the other time he had discussed about it with the real Chris down in the RPD. Apparently, the only way to survive a kiss with the real Claire was to be as gay as Piers, since any other kind of guy was purely a threat to neutralize and keep away, at least in Chris's opinion. But Leon wasn't sure he wouldn't have traded his heterosexuality for a hot necking with Claire like the one he had witnessed. If she moved, moaned and touched as hotly as fake Chris had done in front of him… Leon pushed away those kinky thoughts with another drag before they could be read on his face.

"Yeah… Claire was wasted as fuck and… well, still not so expert of boners!" Chris matter-of-factly observed, noticing too late how his answer was diverting the discussion towards... dangerously pervy subjects. The last thing he wanted was Leon wondering about everything concerning sex in a sibling's body. But it was too late.

"Why? Is she now?" Leon naively asked in the spur of the moment, before really realizing he had indirectly asked Chris about his sister's sexuality and bit his tongue for it.

That candid question, although it subtended a legit curiosity, rocked Chris back on his heels.

The most logical thing – that would've aroused fewer suspicions – was to simply glare at his friend and grumble to watch his tongue when talking about his sister like that. In other words, he had just to act like the usual douche-brother-Chris and the thing would've passed unnoticed. Leon would've thought that Chris preferred to ignore what his sister had done with his body and he'd have changed subject.

It was linear. Mathematical. Infallible.

Conversely though, Chris was anything but rational. Then again the typical panic of who has a guilty conscience, assaulted him and compelled him to babble a cacophony of nonsensical sounds, the most intelligible that came out his mouth was only his repetitive clearing of his throat. He desperately looked away as if the answer would magically sprout from the lawn. He was at his very wits' end.

Leon was rather surprised by that sudden outburst of embarrassment and he swore he saw Chris being in a cold sweat.

He ought to have thought about it. Until that moment, Leon hadn't considered the strictly physical aspect of all that story. He had been so worried about his friends' mental health that he simply neglected to consider that both had had the possibility – if not the necessity – to watch each other's nude body. No wonder they'd have explored that nudity. Leon himself was fairly sure that he'd have glanced down on himself as well, albeit the thought of observing the wholly naked hypothetical sister he hadn't, made him cringe at the very least. But until it happens to you…

"Sorry, buddy." Leon briskly apologised. "I didn't mean to upset you. My bad."

Chris had to say something. Anything. Absolutely.

_Think fast, Redfield!_

He fumbled for words a little before he had a stroke of genius. It'd have required all his best acting skills. He couldn't hide his embarrassment anymore, but he didn't need to, maybe it would even make his play more credible. He reckoned that avoiding the matter wasn't the smartest move – especially when you have to protect a secret that instead is all about that matter.

Instead, if he proved Leon that he was fine even with the most twisted sides of that mishap, his friend wouldn't have questioned it as he couldn't really understand how it feels. Chris only had to play it cool and shift the focus on the most physiological aspects. After all, erection isn't necessarily synonymous to masturbation. He only had to make him believe the only boners Claire had had to deal with were simply natural, involuntary morning woods.

Let the show begin.

Chris laughed it out a little and covered his face with a hand, feigning to be amused beside embarrassed. "It's just so crazy! You know?" he giggled, with a strangest, wide, bashful smile, that brightened his face, softening his features into an enticing expression. "To talk to you about my sister's penis! It's so damn twisted!"

Leon joined him in the laughter and shook his head. "It's crazy that you lent her yours!"

"It is!" Chris exclaimed. "It was hard for her to learn how to deal with it at first. You know how cocks work after all. Especially in the morning." Chris continued, playing his role masterfully. "And mine didn't stop working only because she was inside my body! Just like her uterus did."

Leon awed under his breath. _Uterus_! Damnit, it was still so hard to metabolize that Chris had been a _girl_ for real to consider that it involved everything girls normally experience. "Jesus..." He gushed lowly. "You had periods." He observed.

"Yeah. Twice!" Chris bemoaned, happy to talk about something else.

"How's it?" Leon asked, suddenly a slight blush popped over his cheeks as if he was asking a real girl about her menstruation.

"It's insane, man!" Chris breathed wide-eyed, not pretending anymore. He poked his temples and widened his eyes as to look for some clever way to describe what womanhood is like, but he failed. "It's some very crazy shit! Girls must have some guts to survive that every damn month! It's like living in a splatter movie for four days straight."

Leon raised his eyebrows and blinked in horror. Chris dealing with female hormones must've been a real threat.

"I mean, I know it's the most… _natural_ of things, it's life, but…" Chris continued, suddenly unwilling to stop talking about it. "…but it's so strange! And it hurts. Jesus Christ if it fucking hurts!"

Leon listened in silence. Frowning. For some reason.

Lastly, he tilted his head back until his nape rested against the column, closing his eyes under furrowed brows. His mild Adam's apple jumped as he gulped down sad thoughts.

Relishing in the successful move, Chris peeled off the other slim white pillar and sat down on the first of the few steps that faced his front door and waved at his friend to take a seat as well. They simply sat in silence for a while and smoked their cigarettes, each one lost in their own thoughts.

Leon quickly forgot about those last bloody observations and took his mind back at Claire. He just couldn't push away the thought that she had _never_ turned him down for real. It had been Chris to vicariously do it for her. And that didn't mean she'd have done the same… even though… she'd never showed any sign of interest towards him either. Maybe it was just the emotion of the moment that impelled him to wonder but _what if…? _

Leon cursed.

Why was she now back to haunt him? _Just leave me be. Claire._

Chris, instead, was sinking in an unfamiliar feeling. He'd approached it cautiously, tasting the waters at first, then taking stock of how it affected him, to lastly let it embrace him and cradle him. Having someone to talk about that hellish absurdity was strangely comforting and restoring and it made him yearn for more. Hell, how many were the chances that being sussed out would eventually come in handy? Maybe he and Claire were finally turning the corner!

Chris blew out a puff and watched it briefly ascend to the sky before dissipating. Yeah, he thought, maybe that saying is true… maybe really every cloud has a silver lining.

* * *

**Part 5 – Can't get you out of my head**

Meanwhile, in the living room, the girls had carefully listened to Claire's story by her point of view. Finally all those oddities had found an explanation!

Sitting on the couch facing the broad windows that flooded the living room with abundant daylight, they were entangled in a huge warm hug. It was hard to tell where one's leg ended and the other's calf started, or whose feet were those, as intertwined as they were. Only a bottle of nail polish and some hair curlers were missing, otherwise it was a perfect sample of a female friendship bonding scene from a whatever teen movie. Only the mirth of their girlish chatters broke the quietude of the house as Claire's parents had gone outside in the backyard.

Claire couldn't hug them enough. With an arm looped around Jill's waist and the other hand laced with Rebecca's, she dispensed smiles full of happiness and bubbling giggles all around between a tiny shed tear and a joke.

"That's why you always stared at girls' butts!" Rebecca chortled.

"Or at Sheva's tits." Jill pointedly added.

"Yeah… Chris is such a perv!" Claire joked.

"Moira had begun to hope you'd go for another wild ride with her." Jill tongue-in-cheek commented.

"Oh, now even that time you turned down that hunky hottie makes sense!" Rebecca continued.

"Yeah… Chris is such a straight guy! Poor thing." Claire giggled.

Chris was such a lot of things, allegedly.

The warmth of their company had totally pushed away the disgusting memory of the filthy hands that pig of Wesker had laid on her back in the morning, that Chris's cuddles had already managed to mollify. Claire was on cloud nine. Nothing like human touch could make her feel so good, regardless of who was the human, whether her brother or her girls. She was so unwinding in her nirvana of cuddles that she felt comfortable enough to reveal a little secret.

"You know, girls… as we're in the mood for opening up, now I can tell you a thing." Claire said. "When you believed that Chris was checking on a girl at school… well, _I _was staring at the real Chris. Sorry Jill. Sorry not sorry Ash!"

"No biggie." Jill replied, once and for all obtaining the official confirmation to have been right all the time about the fact that Chris wasn't even slightly thinking about her. A fairly petty satisfaction that left her with a sour taste in her mouth.

"It was just to find the strength to go on and to check if he was alright… then it became a habit." Claire remembered, growing emotional as she spoke. "It helped me. It became the only reason I got to drag me through the morning. Those few minutes of… of… us."

Jill gulped down a gasp. Suddenly, a veil fell off her eyes and she figured out the real, wider implications of all that story.

Chris, the real one, had been with them… all, the, darn, time.

He was there, right next to them, while they all commented "the Chris", "the body", "the shoulders", "the eyes", "the measures"… he was there while they all bickered over who was the_ lucky damsel he had set his sights on_… he was there even that time _fake Claire_ had smirked at her when she – no wait – _he_ had caught her staring at "the ass". Jill's eyelids clenched as to hold back the small dignity that still remained her. Chris knew. And she was in his very house and it right away became the most awkward afternoon of her life.

"Okey dokey, sweetie. I get it." Rebecca smiled, resuming her customary smart attitude. "Fake Chris had her reasons to watch, and I'm glad it was of some use to you. But! But there's a but!"

"But what?" Claire asked.

"But your Daddy said he fixed the shit like two weeks ago!" Rebecca observed, totally not inclined to give up and accept that discredit so easily. "And I _clearly_ remember Chris staring at our table until _yesterday_!"

"Well, if he keeps doing it he has his reasons to, but trust me, it's not what you think." Claire muttered, defensively.

"He can't just have inherited the habit. It's illogical." Rebecca concluded, unaffected by Claire's miserable defence. "So stop covering his ass, darling!"

"Can we just leave him alone?" A heating up Claire yelled. "He's still too… hell, I don't even know how he's! But I can bet my life on it that he's not looking for any romance right now!" She uttered, without really getting the gist of her own words. She was right, Chris wasn't looking for a girl, he was looking at _the_ girl. His girl.

"Maybe he's just grown fond of _someone_ while he's been with us!" Rebecca insisted, although softening her impetuous enthusiasm.

Those words were ignored by Claire as she exasperatedly waved a dismissive hand and surrendered, determined to do not give any more shit about their stupid theories from now on. If they wanted to be disappointed by a useless waiting for the absolute nothing, she'd have let them be.

Simultaneously though, those words were just another thing to gulp down for the unfortunate Valentine. A sigh this time. Her blank face managed to hide the… something… that rose within her. What if Rebecca was right? What if Chris had grown fond of one of the girls while he was so close with them? Like a thunder, a bunch of words resonated in her skull. "_What if I want you to kiss instead?_". What was that supposed to mean now if Chris knew about her… her! Had it been "_just a game_" like he said? Had he meant to make a move on her? Or had he used her to test some other girl's reaction? What if the _damsel_ was Ashley? Guys love the blondes after all. And the bitch was even a natural blonde!

"Yeah… maybe Ashley got to impress him with all those squeals." Jill joked, more to reassure herself than to alleviate the tone of the conversation.

"Tsk! Ashley couldn't impress him not even if she turned into a stamp!" Becky sassed.

"Sorry to prick the bubble but…" Claire murmured, failing her previous determination but willing to put an end on that totally out of place bullshit. "Chris actually looks at _me_."

"Why on Earth…? If now everything's fine why should he even continue to do what you did when you were him? That doesn't make any sense!"

Claire's eyes saddened incredibly, she scraped her ear and began flicking her earlobe in worry. Was she strong enough to say it? "Because everything is not just fine." Allegedly, she was.

"What do you mean?" Jill asked in concern with a softest whisper. "You seem the same old Claire now!"

Claire shifted a little upwards in Jill's arms and took a deep breath. Again, to mentally relive their anguish was overwhelming her, she wanted to run away from that conversation. But she resisted. After all, the girls already knew the cause of her suffering… why shouldn't she confide them the consequences – at least the confessable ones. There were too many thorns pricking her heart and to unplug one or two would certainly do her no harm.

"We're still licking our wounds, I think." Claire despondently mumbled, wringing her hands. "Mommy says we need time to overcome the trauma… And to know the other is fine is just so helpful. Chris just needs me. Just as much as I need him."

A shaky sigh strangled those last words of her, and it blurred into the silence they shared for some moments.

Both Jill and Rebecca wanted to continue investigating their friend's sorrow to see if they could help anyhow but, eventually they preferred to divert the conversation to lighter matters. They couldn't push it too much. Claire had endured enough stress so far. They'll talk it out when she'll be ready.

In the turns of a few minutes, Claire had regained her bright smile while commenting how hanging out with Chris's gang was fun or how lame were Carlos's antics sometimes – but he was so perfect for Sheva, "_they're so cute together!"._ She narrated many details and anecdotes about each boy, not without some kind of nostalgia in her words. In spite of how hard had been to pretend all the time, she had grown fond of them alike Chris had of the girls. But speaking of guys… it naturally shifted the conversation towards _one_ guy. The guy. And Claire didn't see it coming. Poor thing.

"Now, there's just one more thing I want to know by you, Claire." Rebecca said, lowering the tone of the conversation to a very solemn one.

"I'm all ears." Claire innocently smiled, resting her head on Jill's shoulder.

Rebecca took a deep breath and looked at her dead in the eyes. "Why didn't you tell me that Leon kissed you?"

The dopey grin on Claire's face gradually dissolved until only a faint grimace still pursed her lips. She ought to have expected that Rebecca knew about the infamous kiss by then and that she'd ask her to make her case for her own actions.

"Because Leon never kissed me." She replied.

"Chris seemed pretty clear on Friday night. Leon kissed you in the veranda." Rebecca retorted, by no means approving what it appeared to her to be just one last senseless and desperate attempt to deny the truth. "And Leon confirmed me everything so, darling, don't you lie at my face." She smarmily smiled.

"I'm not lying. Leon kissed _Chris_." Claire said, returning the malicious grin and laughed along with Jill.

Rebecca wished to join their amused banters but she was still doubtful.

Claire hoped that revelation would have finally appeased the girl's jealousy but, instead, she had actually misunderstood he friend's chagrin. Rebecca couldn't care less if Claire knew or not what it feels like to kiss Leon. It wasn't about jealousy. It was about sincerity.

"Well, I'm happy for Chris." Rebecca said crossing her arms, not lightening her serious tone. "But Leon kissed _Claire_. And you knew about it."

"It doesn't seem it turned out bad for you, Becky. Ok, he kissed Claire in the veranda, fine, you got a point on that! But he kissed _you_ in the pantry!" Claire lamely observed to defend herself.

"Claire, you should've told me."

"How?! I wasn't even me!" Claire exclaimed, exasperation edging her voice. "How could ever _Christopher Redfield_ come to you and tell you that the crush he wasn't even supposed to know you have had just kissed the sister he's so jealous of? How could I ever make it sound normal?!"

"Oh, I'm sure you could find a way to tell me the truth if only you wished! You could do it that day in the hallway, for instance, when you were again yourself!" Rebecca retorted.

"Enough!" Claire yelled, raising her palms nervously. "It was already so fucking hard to lie every day to everyone, mirror included! Not even placating Chris and his shitty jealousy was easy when that fucktard decided to make a move on me! Chris made a scene for something I didn't even take part in!" Claire barked, while the quivering in her voice rose to a cry-broken stutter. "What did you expect me to do? You wanted me to break your heart? Well, sorry Becky! I just preferred to leave all that shit behind and forget and spare you a useless heartbreak!"

Claire's lips were shaking as she gulped down her jitters, her teary eyes glimmered flickeringly. Her best friend was accusing her for a stupid little mistake when _she_ had always put Rebecca first, ignoring how much she was attracted by Leon as well! She had even felt so damn guilty when she orgasmed to Leon while mating with Moira – like two years ago! – as though she was cheating on Becky or something when, instead, she owed her absolutely nothing! Nevertheless, Claire had always repeated herself that he was Rebecca's crush and she better not think about him even if he was such a catch. And she hadn't. Never. All that grudge now was really undeserved!

As two big tears threatened to run down Claire's cheeks, Rebecca leaned forward and held her tight. "Sorry, my friend."

"No, I am sorry." Claire sobbed. "I didn't want any of this to happen and if I messed it up... it's 'cause I wasn't ready."

"How could you ever be?" Becky whispered.

They hugged tightly. Jill's arms sealed that emotional reconciliation by enveloping both and cradling them sweetly.

"Leon's not a fucktard. I didn't mean it." Claire apologised at last. _He's an angel._

* * *

**Part 6 – What it feels like for a girl**

"C'mon, ask me anything." Chris incited, leaning forward on the step he was sitting on and rested the elbows on his knees. Now that boners, vaginas, nudity issues in general had already been tackled and put off, he felt more comfortable in talking about the body switch and God knows how much he needed it!

"Ask you what? I don't even know where to start." Leon said, shaking his head. He leaned back on his palms and reclined his neck as to sunbath. The questions that had worried his mind for the past three days were so many that now clogged his brain. "If you were in my shoes, what would you ask me?"

Chris forced a laugh and his imagination.

If his friend would've ever confessed to him he had been for a freaking whole month inside the body of a girl, the first thing he'd have asked would've been how it feels to have boobies. But that's what the _old_ Chris would've asked before he experienced the answer on his very own skin. _Today_ Chris instead would rather ask if the boobies felt swollen during periods, if menstrual cramps assaulted only his lower belly or also reverberated through his backbone, or how he preferred to stimulate the clitoris, how often did he had to wax, how he'd deal with clumpy mascara, which bra cup size he wore and how damn much he hated it on a scale of one to Vickers.

"I'm tired of walking in someone else's shoes." Chris lastly sighed, blowing out an evanescent cloud of smoke.

Leon nodded. "No shit. I reckon it wasn't easy to be a girl for all that time."

"It wasn't easy being _Claire_." Chris despondently said, although a rising sense of sweetness mollified his voice.

It wasn't easy being that thinner and shorter, neither it was being so incredibly delicate and feminine or so upset and emotional when blood dripped out his vagina. Nor it was pretending to reason like a girl, or to discover all the most intimate dirty little secrets Claire had kept from him. It wasn't easy to talk with her about masturbation and to pretend it was just alright if she jerked off with his penis. It wasn't easy to part from her every day at the bus stop to face a brand-new school day of pure angst.

Finally he could look at those memories as something that belonged to the past and this heartened him a little, although the pain still lingered in there. "It wasn't easy watching her suffer so bad every day. Nothing was easy."

"I see… It wasn't easy watching _you_ suffer either." Leon sighed, joining Chris's sad meditation.

Now that he knew it had been Claire, every remembrance of a downcast look on fake Chris's face, of a panicked gaze, of a stuttered word, of a sigh of exasperation, of a pained nod, it all stung sharply his heart with sorrow. Although… alongside those hurtful visions, a heart-warming thought aroused in his chest and Leon was caught in the middle of despising it and cherishing it. He remembered real Claire reaching out for his hand and grabbing it tightly during that panic attack on the balcony. She had needed him. That meant she relied on him and she had sought relief in his embrace – perhaps she'd even found solace in the end. She _did_ consider him. It had been the closest he had really gotten with her. And now he replayed that scene in his mind over and over again, restlessly.

"I felt so useless." Chris sighed.

"Welcome to the club."

"I wanted to help her, Leon. You know how damn much I wanted it but I couldn't even help myself."

"How is she now?" Leon asked, sincerely concerned. To have a better look at his face as he answered he leaned onwards, emulating Chris's same posture but, after tucking his cigarette between his lips, he crossed his hands instead of letting them dangle freely as the other boy did. Everything about Leon's gestures was simply so comforting.

"Better." Chris replied and after a pensive pause he added "apparently it's not easy to return to normality either. She still has her moments… but I'm taking care of her all the time."

Leon smiled, took a drag and sighed. "I never doubted you would. Not even when I told the fake you to get your shit together for her, back at Kevin's." He took another drag. "_She_ promised, _you_'re keeping the word."

Chris stretched a smile. "Claire always refused to tell me what happened back then, you know? She'd always brush over that you were a really good friend and nothing more. And I couldn't ask you overtly." Chris murmured. "She panicked, didn't she?"

Leon closed his eyes. "Yes." Three hurtful letters. "Had you panic attacks too?"

"No." Chris reassured. "Guess she looked after me better than I did to her."

"I'm sure you did your best, Chris. She seems so fine now." Leon said. "What 'bout you?"

Chris wasn't ready for that question. He didn't know what to say. Perhaps he didn't even know how he was. He couldn't deny he was still having some shocking nightmares but he couldn't neither admit that half of his worries derived from the apprehension of hiding the crime he was committing since a dozen of days – dammit, now that he knew some of his friends were ready to violate the law to discover the truth, his anxieties had suddenly triplicated. But anxious was only half of the answer. He was also in love, head over heels in love and it elated him immensely. He lived every day just to see her smile and to relish in her kisses. His whole life now orbited around her, more than it ever did. She was the only star to brighten his days. The only guide in his darkest nights and he'd let her lead him anywhere, blindly, like a sailor to the North star. Chris's vocabulary didn't include a word able to define such an inner contrast of feelings. Thus, he simply dodged the question with a shrug albeit without lying. "Dunno, buddy."

"Well, Chris. Call me when you'll know, ok?" Leon said. "Now you got no more reasons to keep your sorrow a secret. Promise me you'll reach out if you'll need help."

"I promise." Chris muttered, certainly not foreseeing the implications of such an oath. He was too overwhelmed with the sorrowful memories of Claire suffering now and he needed a break from all that. Hence, he rested a sound pat on Leon's shoulder and changed the subject. "Enough about me. It's your turn now. You and Rebecca seem to be hitting it off, don't you?"

Leon coyly smiled and accepted his choice to divert the discussion, he reckoned he had worried his serenity too much. "Yeah, she's nice!"

"She likes you. A lot." Chris stated, becoming serious. "Trust me. She's yours."

* * *

**Part 7 – Dirty Little Secret**

"Are you telling me you really saw Chris naked?!" Jill asked, looking at Claire utterly astonished.

"Envious?" Rebecca insinuated, prodding Jill's side with her toe.

"The alternative was stinking as shit." Claire bluntly shrugged.

"And how was it?" Jill questioned.

"Woah, the girl wants details!" Rebecca exclaimed.

Jill's only answer was an annoyed eyeroll, nevertheless she continued staring at Claire in expectation. Her curiosity was far beyond the spicy details about the physique of that god-like beefcake of Chris – albeit she was super curious about it too. It doesn't happen every day that a woman can tell she's been inside a man's body, actually, Jill was fairly sure it had never happened before in the whole world since the Big Bang! She wanted to know everything, obviously!

"It was pretty hard and embarrassing at the beginning. And awkward. So awkward!" Claire began recounting, her blue irises shuttling from a spot to another as she tried to collect memories and make order in her feelings. "The first time I showered I kept my eyes closed all the time! But it was useless. I couldn't… uh… _escape_ the feeling of it…"

Rebecca hardly curbed a cackle but she urged the redhaired to go on and get it all off her chest regardless of her funny reactions.

"As time goes by you get used to it eventually." Claire continued. A sweetest smile bloomed on her face as she thought of all the wise, tender, lovely words Chris had told her weeks before. "Chris used to say it was my body now and I oughtn't to feel uneasy in it. And he was right. In the end, showering was easy-peasy. And I felt ever so comfortable inside him, at least when home. Oh, I'll miss his brawns! I even lifted my real body, you know? Like it weighed nothing! That was incredible! Damn... I'll miss even peeing standing up!" she enthused.

"And… did you… did you ever play with… uhm…" Rebecca stammered, maliciously mimicking something dangling with the hands.

Claire couldn't hold back an luscious grin. Thus she covered her face with her hands and giggled. Oh, if only they knew! They had no effin' clue!

"Oh my God, Claire!" Jill shouted, awestruck. "You jerked off-"

"Shhh! I don't want my parents to know I touch myself!" Claire said, looking around to check the adults weren't nearby.

"But he is your _brother_!" Jill gushed in a chiding manner.

"Jill's right… I mean, it's Chris's penis." Rebecca agreed. "That's gross."

"Oh, c'mon girls! Don't you come telling me you wouldn't do the same if you had the chance!" Claire protested.

"You're right." Rebecca mumbled, absently staring at the ceiling while she mentally tried to get inside a man's body. "Yeah. I'd totally touch my penis all day. Nonstop. What does it feel like?"

Claire curled even deeper in Jill's hug and, closing her eyes to recall, she moaned through her nose. "It feels so good."

Jill was perplexed.

While Claire meticulously described the feeling an erected penis gives a man, or how masturbating as a boy required a little more… organization – unless you accepted the risk to stain clothes and spray semen all around – or, lastly, how doing it in the shower was the best option, Jill couldn't get it out of her head that it was_ her brother's_ _penis_ they were talking about. Alright, the girls had always commented Chris's sturdiness and wondered about what laid inside his boxer-briefs even in front of Claire, but that was a whole different thing! Now Claire was saying she had had her brother's dick in her very hands and had drained pleasure from it, like he would do, stroking it, whacking it, spilling it. That was sick. Jill's perplexity was plainly showing on her face.

"Jill? Are you still with us?" Rebecca asked, waving a hand before Jill's grey eyes to draw her back from la-la-land. "Fine, we lost her!" She stated addressing Claire.

"Maybe thinking about Chris mother-naked and wet is getting her wet too!" Claire joked, kissing Jill's cheek affectionately.

"Are you wet, Jill?" Rebecca insisted. "Are you ovulating? Are you feeling hot? You want some dick? Wanna date him? Ask him out!"

"Easy, girls. My hormones are under control." Jill replied, breaking her thoughtful silence and giving them a pointed look. "But I really can't understand how you can be so outspoken about whacking your brother's dick."

Claire shrugged. "I told you. You get used to having it after a while."

"Alright. But now everyone is back into their own bodies and doesn't it embarrass you to know that he has seen you naked?" Jill asked, quirking a brow. "Not even a little bit?"

"Sincerely? Not at all." Claire replied, and it was the truth. Or better, it was a part of the truth. She couldn't really say that, actually, Chris's hungry looks turned her on as fuck and that she allowed him to "_see her naked very closely_" basically every night! But her body had been his for a month, and it was still his somehow. And vice versa. They'd got it back, but there was an invisible, subtle thread that would evermore connect their souls to the other's body. They were as one. "To be honest, Chris even played with my pussy and I'm totally fine with it." She lastly added to corroborate her statement.

"Are you serious?" Rebecca gushed.

"Yup." Claire replied, naively. "What did you expect? That he'd keep his hands in his pockets for a whole month?! Dammit! I didn't resist myself, let alone would a horny boy like him!"

"Horny." Jill muttered, at loss for words. "To his sister."

"Hey, hold up! Hold up! Hold up! It was his body back then! Just as I had to feel comfortable in my boyish one, he had the right to do the same." Claire purposefully stated. She had no intention of letting anyone judge her. The fact that Jill was now criticising her was infuriating her. "And… and you have no idea how hard it's been! At the end of every damn day we were broken. And to have a tug was the only way to get some relief! Ok, I touched his cock and jerked it off, so what? I'd do it all over again if that would've helped me to face another fucking day of everybody asking me what the hell was wrong with me!"

Her flustered voice was quivering again, out of anger this time, but not only that. Beside the sorrow of remembering, there was also the fear of having talked too much. Maybe the two smart girls her friends were wouldn't take long to put two and two together and eventually accuse her she fucked her brother – for unlikely that sounded, she couldn't take anything for granted. Claire feared she had taken the umpteenth misstep that would've gained her another reproach from Chris. And she'd have preferred a punch right in the mouth rather than giving him another reason to be anxious.

"Claire's right." Rebecca mumbled, scratching her chin. "I don't think we can really understand, Jill."

Jill was still of the idea that their behaviour hadn't been that healthy, but she decided to don't meddle at last. If it had been alright for Claire, then it'd be alright also for her.

Therefore, she hugged her and sighed. "Ok, Gingerhead." And, to try to alleviate a little that state of renewed tension her friend had fallen back into because of her, Jill dared a joke, well aware it would lead her to a new wave of comments about her (not) _inexistent_ crush the two other girls were so much fans of. "Well, I can't deny I'd not like to have a shower as Chris. Especially in your bathroom. It must be so sexy to watch yourself in that huge mirror!"

"Oh well, showering _as_ Chris is impossible now, I think. You heard my Daddy." Claire laughed, appreciating her friend's effort. She knew how much Jill hated talking about such intimate things as her obvious crush. "But a shower _with_ Chris… well, you already had one honeybee!"

Jill gasped.

Oh, fuck… she had indeed!

* * *

**I gotta warn you at this point. Next (and last) part is gonna be super-long. So long it should be quite parted in two and it will be. See you next week.**

**Just in case anyone wondered, the artists of the subheading-songs are (in order): Prince, Kylie Minogue, Madonna, The All-American Rejects.**


	25. Showdown (3 of 4)

**Chapter 20 - Showdown (3 of 4)**

* * *

**Part 8 - Simmer**

"Did you really pick her up with a tandem?!" Chris guffawed aloud, slapping his knee at Leon's helpless shrug.

"It'd have taken longer by foot, so…" Leon justified.

"Geez! I can almost see the face she made when she saw you coming on that clunker!" Chris imagined and that really gave him a belly laugh, genuine like everything concerning Rebecca.

"Oh, c'mon! It's not that wrecked!" Leon amusedly protested.

"Did you wear your mother's helmet?" Chris gushed almost choking on his own laughter and the smoke. "Please, tell me you didn't put a fucking flowery meadow on your head!"

"Chill out, bud. I gave Mom's one to Becky." Leon replied. In fact he had preferred to use the helmet that once belonged to his father. In the end, there was something regarding _heads_ that the two Kennedys had in common: the size.

"Remind me to give you some driving lessons, Leon." Chris laughed, blowing out a drag of smoke. "You can't keep picking up girls on a bicycle!"

Leon snorted in derision.

"Even though I'm curious to see how you'd deal with boning a girl on a two-wheeler!" Chris sassed.

"Is that a challenge?" Leon suggestively smirked.

Leon couldn't even recall the last time he'd had a conversation like that with Chris.

One of those chilling small talks between bros about motors, girls, pussy and fellatio before a good cigarette. Only a pair of beer cans was missing to complete the scenery of their bromantic reunion. Being both at their second round of tobacco, they'd have surely emptied the cigarettes holders to talk the falling evening away if only that moment of – apparent – normality wasn't meant to end soon.

Now that Leon finally knew the true tragedy that had struck the Redfields, it leapt out how Chris had been a whole fucking different person until some time ago! Hadn't it all been about such an unthinkable and unordinary event, Leon could've even figured it all out by himself for how darn _evident_ the identity alteration of his friend had been.

For a whole month Chris had simply quitted being Chris.

Never once a comment on any of those deep cleavages the girls in the school seemed to wear only to impress and be noticed by a guy like him. Never once had he acted like the cocky guy who used to say to _show no mercy_ when it came to impress a girl and ask her out – or to humiliate a bully. Never once had he flirted in the hallways with a passing chick like he used to: a seductive smile, a charming gaze and the innate appeal of the nice guy you'd have called _Daddy_ while he fucked your brains out against the same window he had sneaked through, giving zero fucks about your parents being downstairs – certainly, it was a fairly edulcorated vision of Chris but that was the kind of aura that surrounded him and made girls and panties drop to the floor at his feet anytime he'd be around.

When Chris had told him the cosmic hoax of Lily's cancer, Leon had wanted to convince himself that each of Chris's anomalies – from the depressed look, to the dejected posture, to the lack of energy – had been due to the strong anxiety the fright of losing his mom to a bad illness generated. _Logically_ it was inarguable but, anyway, the easiness in which a natural born combatant like him had gotten knocked-out by an adversity that was all yet to happen, had left Leon perplexed.

Now instead… now it all made sense. The fake Chris had stood the blow even too bravely.

Albeit, apparently, his friend had returned for a while now, he hadn't resumed all the habits he had had to interrupt on the 24th of September. And this was giving Leon some other headache.

The real old Chris hadn't returned as, instead, it was logical to expect.

At school, he seemed to be paying zero attention to girls or to the continuous goading exhortations of Carlos that tried to match him with anyone who hadn't a penis dangling between their legs. But Chris seemed always distracted, he always dismissed it as not important, as if the opposite sex (or sex in general) didn't concern him, except for those rarest cases when his attention was casually caught by a Piers praising fruity condoms or lubes or Kevin describing sex positions or new remote locations in Arklay City where he'd taken his new girlfriend. Those were the only moments when Chris seemed to remember he was a man. Without considering Piers and all the sad cases he dated, by then Chris was the last guy in the squad without a girl – well, uh… actually Leon was pretty sure he couldn't say he had a girlfriend yet, like a "regular one" but… maybe… well… a-at least he was dat-… _he was going to date _someone!

Moreover, Chris had become an ascetic. He had disappeared from the radars and this regardless of the switch. Leon guesstimated that since Chris had repossessed his body, the times he had hung out with him could be counted on one hand: there was that time down at the RPD, then a Saturday night at Jack Bar with the others and, lastly, that last-minute party on Friday – that by the way hadn't even been _his_ idea.

If that wasn't a confirmation that Chris was still undergoing some issues, then Leon didn't know what else it'd mean nor what to expect.

For the time being though, all those considerations hovered in the background of Leon's mind, unspoken, unworded, whilst the boy simply enjoyed listening to Chris talking racy about girls again like the inner lech he was, while flicking the tobacco roll with a hand and mimicking to flick… other things with the other.

The narrative of the pantry accident had entertained Chris a lot and he was now complimenting Leon about his boldness, happy that the boy had followed his advice and made a move on Rebecca.

Mentally though, the big boy preened and victoriously rubbed his hands for having involuntarily killed two birds with a stone. With his stroke of genius back on Friday night – when he'd made Leon notice that the girl was utterly lost for him – he had shrewdly fobbed Leon off to Rebecca and, by doing so, he had not only got rid of a thorn in his side, pesky like the idea of a boy secretly still infatuated of your sister hovering around her, but also, he had gotten Rebecca even more than she'd have even dared to hope for.

Beyond all his selfish satisfactions and aims for possession, Chris was genuinely happy for Rebecca. She'd been so sweet, attentive, lovely with him when he'd been disguised as his sister, that now Chris had grown fond of her and he considered her a friend alike a Leon or a Piers.

Whilst cradling himself in those memories of Rebecca's attentions, Chris – almost telepathically with the girls inside the house – remembered an episode that, in account of all the bustle in his life, he had throughout forgotten. His mind (and heart) had been so overtly filled by Claire and her breath-taking body that the remembrance of another two stark naked bodies he'd had the quite recent chance to admire closely and get lost in their beauty, had slipped into the most remote corners of his mind. That impromptu remembering put him into a state of uncomfortable worry, jeering the vainglorious Chris of a few moments before.

He had no other choice but to face the music and… hope this wouldn't screw his precious friendship with Leon.

"I had a shower with Rebecca."

Bam. Out of nowhere. Tact wasn't Chris's forte.

Leon's eyebrows jumped up in surprise and confusion. "The fuck, man?!"

"It happened when I was Claire." Chris muttered.

Chris recounted of that time the girls had shown up with a jar of body scrub – "_don't ask why I even know what it is, I just took my being a girl seriously, ok?"_ – and once he had finally understood what that shit was about it was too late to turn tail as both girls were already naked... and close, so dangerously close! He made great effort to underline how hard it had been and how vulnerable he had felt, but the heat rising in his lower belly compelled him to look away lest Leon might have read the shadow of past arousal in his eyes.

The blond was too busy in pondering that new information to notice anything. After the big revelation of the day, he was fairly sure that Becky had put two and two together and knew by then that the strange Claire she had wanted to cheer with some girlish cuddles was anything but a girl. And, behind a smirk he had the consideration to suppress, Leon wished he'd known it before! Rebecca had made such a scene for a mere kiss with Claire – who, surprise surprise, wasn't even her! – and now it turns out she had had a deadass shower with Chris! Damn, that would've been one hell of a retort back inside the pantry!

"I hope it's not a problem for you." Chris concluded.

Leon returned to Earth and pondered that last statement. He wanted to feel jealous. He kinda _had to_ feel jealous at this point. Leon expected jealousy to rush to his brain and make him go spare, but it never happened. "It's ok, buddy." He shrugged.

Curiously, Chris had the same expectation, and when his was failed too, he carefully observed him while taking the last drag and butted out the cigarette. A dark shadow grew to overlay his features. "So, you're fine with it."

"Yeah… you were walking on eggshells back then, I would've done the same, I think." Leon mumbled. "And Rebecca can be so… insistent. You had no choice."

"What's your angle with her?" Chris enigmatically asked, side-glancing at him.

"What do you mean?"

"She has a crush on you, Kennedy."

"I know." The boy gloatingly smiled, purposefully ignoring the alarming sign that to be called by his last name was.

"Are you two an item?"

Leon gasped in surprise and chewed on it a little. Were they? It was a bit too early to state such a thing, wasn't it? He hadn't even taken her on a real date yet! "We're… we're just getting to know each other, that's it."

"Well, don't you take advantage of her if you're not interested." Chris said, trying to muffle his grunt the best he could.

Leon gave him a dirty look. "What makes you think so?"

"I'd go apeshit if anybody told me he'd got a nude massage with the girl I'm dating." Chris growled, squinting his eyes in annoyance. "And you didn't."

"I didn't even know her back then!" Leon prickled. That conversation was getting downright absurd. Was Chris going to be a douche even when it came to Rebecca now? Honestly, Leon was fed up. He could understand – with much effort of imagination – that a brother would be somehow protective towards his sister, especially if younger (and so beautiful…), but to be towards his sister's friends as well was… it was getting a little annoying, ok? "Besides, I'm not _you_."

"No, you're not." Chris taunted, a tone of arrogance finally getting to leak his narrowing barrier of self-control. He adjusted on the wooden step he was sitting on, straightening his back and slightly inflating his chest as though he wanted to appear bigger and instil… reverence? Fear?

"Chris, what the fuck are you trying to tell me?" Leon asked, growing miffed at Chris's conceited gaze.

"You better hash it out with her if she's only a fill-in to you." The older boy harshly gruffed.

Again, Chris pierced him with the same forbidding glare as he did during the drinking game, when the spinning bottle wanted Claire to kiss Leon. Again, Leon didn't recognise his friend. That sudden burst of pugnacity in Chris's words was like a bolt out of the blue. Leon was dumbfounded. Chris seemed so instable lately. Now he was the friendliest person in the world, but then, all at once he would just scowl and get touchy for no apparent reason.

"A fill-in?! Dammit, Chris! What's wrong you? You know I don't use girls!"

"Oh, really? Then look at me and tell me you're not using Rebecca as a fallback!"

"A fallback for what?" Leon asked in defiance.

"You still like my sister, don't you?" Chris scornfully snickered.

Leon widened his eyes in dismay at such direct question. Did he? He wasn't expecting Chris to address the issue again and so straightforwardly. They had settled it all out about his crush on Claire back at the firing range. He had already promised he'd never make a move on her and stick to the sister rule, nonetheless whether he liked her or not didn't pertain Chris at all. As he didn't own his sister – and perhaps one day he'll even understand it – Chris didn't own other people's feelings either! Even if he was really dating a girl to get over a hopeless crush, then so what? Anybody has the right to move on and get a second chance from life even if their hearts move slower.

"Tsk! I knew it." Chris snorted, diabolically smirking to the lawn. "You can't get Claire so you settle for the friend. The second-best!"

"This is none of your fucking business, Chris!" the younger boy snarled. He ought've better to state it clear that he was into Rebecca, instead he'd let uncertainty to take over his mind and fill him with doubt. Chris instilled no reverence nor fear nor whatever he may have wished to, instead, he got to instil confusion in his friend's already faltering heart and mind. Oh, that was so helpful of him! A real good friend indeed!

But Leon wasn't supposed to extend his defence any further. Chris was still scoffing in scorn when the front door behind them flung open. Jill Valentine emerged from the doorframe and stomped outwards without the slightest hesitation at the sight of her path obstructed by those sitting guys.

"Jill, are you leaving already?" Chris asked in a voice that immediately shifted back to his usual gentle tone, as the girl fled in the narrow space between him and Leon.

The girl didn't bother to reply, she just kept going.

"Jill, wait!" Claire's voice pleaded from behind.

Chris eyed his sister but didn't get to figure out what was going on. Had the girls had a fight? One way to discover. He stood up and chased the running brunette, who by then had almost reached the sidewalk.

"Jill." Chris soothed, grabbing her arm to stop her.

Jill let him tug her to turn and as soon as she faced him, she inclemently bitch-slapped his cheek. The smack resounded in the whole street. Chris froze. Leon froze. Claire froze. Even the setting sun froze. Jill's grey eyes expressed a mixture of hurt and rage that hit the big boy even harder than the burning sting of pain rising on his quickly reddening face.

He understood he wasn't the only one who'd remembered the shower accident.

"You're a total swine." Jill snarled in a quivering voice, her palm still burning.

"Please understand." Chris begged, unsuccessfully trying to hold her hands and calm her. "I couldn't tell you I wasn't her."

"You could just don't let us get there!"

"I'm sorry, Jill. I didn't mean to…"

"You didn't mean to _what_?" Jill yelled. "You saw a chance to grope a naked girl and you took it!"

Chris didn't want the wrong message to pass – that he had took advantage of the girls' ignorance on purpose. Alright, the shower had crashed him with a train of emotions, one hotter than the other, but he'd also felt terribly uncomfortable for doing such a wrong thing at their backs. And now, with Claire within earshot, Jill fuming before him, Leon intently observing behind him, Chris and his reputation would've done anything to change the past and the truth that he had indeed groped a girl because he failed to curb his instincts. Anything. "I didn't grope you! You asked me to help you with the scrub and so I did." Chris retaliated. "It's not my fault if you saw things."

Oh, he opted for a lame, childish scapegoating. Smart boy.

Those last words hurt Jill somewhere deep inside, right in the softest core of her feelings, and it was destructive. Had she been seeing things all along? The looks at school, the kiss, his smile after it? It really meant nothing then, as long as he was talking like that right now. How stupid she'd been! She knew she'd better not listen to Rebecca's bunks nor to… her own heart. Terrible mistake. Tight-lipped and heartsore, Jill did what she does best: she stood tall. And soon Chris would've discovered how taller than him the thin girl was.

"You can wipe that sneer off your face, asshole! You had the gun! I didn't invent your fucking fingers going down on... my... on _my_ _ass-hole_!" Jill thundered, striving to muster the right words to verbally punish him. She had no intention to let him convince her she was the one to blame.

Denying the truth further was out of question. It'd have only worsened his precarious position now. Chris couldn't let Jill to reveal other details about how events had gone inside the shower tray. He didn't want his sister to listen – even if she already knew, but he despised the idea of his lover having to listen to such things. Neither he wanted Jill to understand she had hit both a nerve and the target. Love urged him to think fast about anything to defend himself and his reputation but, under the unforgiving stare of the girl, his brain went haywire.

"Look, I might've looked like Claire, but I was Chris." He murmured. "And it happens that I am a boy an-"

The second slap hit even harder. But on the other cheek.

"Don't you dare." Jill warned in a broken voice, tears pricking into her grey eyes.

Despite her blurring vision she glared at him for a long moment before turning on her heels and leave.

He didn't stop her.

Among all the possible answers, he couldn't quite believe he had actually chosen the worst one. Had he really appealed to his masculinity? Had a month inside his sister taught him nothing? Had he forgotten how it feels to be harassed and groped or whistled at?

_What's wrong with me today?_

It was with a grave look and two red hand-shaped marks on his face that Chris turned to his house and silently walked past his best friend, and right into his human home. Chris let Claire envelope him in her softest hug before holding her tight against his chest. He was falling apart and her thin arms were the sole things able to keep his pieces together. The moral slap he had just received was burning more than Jill's hits.

_I need you, my love._

There were precisely two sets of eyes in excess for him to get to satisfy his need in that moment. Caringly, he drew back and caressed her head. "I'm thirsty." His tone was low and normal but his eyes conveyed a whole different kind of drought. But none in the room but Claire could notice it.

"Ok…" Claire whispered, letting him go. "Want some juice?"

"No, I… I'm going to… I just need to…" Chris trailed off. What did he need? Her. But not this way, not with people around and most importantly he didn't need her to talk. He was sick and tired of talking. He needed her to ride him like in her wildest nights. "I need to be alone a little."

"Alright, we'll be waiting in the living room." Claire smiled caressing his arm.

"About you? Are you okay?"

"I'm alright. You know, girls know how to lift each other." Claire cooed in sincerity.

"Good." He nodded and glanced at Rebecca who was looking at them with a sweet smile pursing her lips. Damn, he had to apologise with her too, but he needed a break from that motherfucking afternoon. Thus he simply walked away and disappeared in the kitchen, certain that Claire was fine – seemingly happy – and in good hands.

"I reckon I gotta talk with him." Rebecca whispered, clustering with Leon and Claire in the small entrance hall.

"Yeah. He wants to be by himself but… I don't think it's what's better for him right now." Claire sighed.

"Can you girls explain me what happened?" Leon asked.

The girls exchanged a look in which Claire silently passed the ball to Rebecca in order to decide whether or not telling Leon about the whole body scrub story.

"Well, let's just say we treated him like _Claire_ a little bit too much." The brunette said and briefly explained what had occurred.

"Yeah, Chris told me." Leon stated. "He feels kinda guilty."

"You totally need to talk with him, Becky. It's something unresolved between you and… and…" Claire muttered. "And I don't want him to go to bed tonight with one more worry keeping him awake."

Rebecca nodded and turned towards the dining room.

"He already has plenty of them…" Claire concluded under her breath, while watching Rebecca on her way to her brother, her home, her lover.

* * *

**Part 9 – Hot stuff**

Chris was sitting on a stool by the kitchen island pouring himself a glass of water. Not the best way to drink his problems out but surely the healthier – even if not as much as that disgusting orange juice in the fridge. He needed to binge on fucking whiskey, anything that could sedate his pains and mind for good. But as long as he spotted his mother in the backyard, anything more alcoholic than water was out of reach. He'd had enough for that day, he could spare himself a reproach.

The stool on his left made a screeching sound as it was towed backwards.

"Hello there, my friend." Rebecca said, sitting on top of it as if they were at a bar or something. "Got anything for me?"

Chris slid his glass over the quartz surface and waved the bottle he'd drink from, the water sloshing briskly inside it. "Let's just pretend it's vodka."

Rebecca nodded and grabbed the glass. "Cheers, Big Guy." She said raising her glass and clinked it to his bottle, drinking to that incredible, twisted, tiring afternoon.

"Cheers." He muttered and gulped down a sip.

Rebecca looked at him through her sparkling green eyes, taking her time to metabolize that the huge bulk of a boy beside her was the same person she'd shared lunches, homework, classes, gossips, secrets, showers with. Rebecca sighed and went for another sip to help herself gulp down the thought that the boy next to her could ideally see through her clothes and watch her naked by his mere memory. That was embarrassing but… well, after all she'd done quite the same to him with the girls anytime his athletic physique was brought to the table. So they were quite even? Right? Better believe to that lie.

She snorted and shook her head as she thought of all the times the real Chris Redfield had witnessed a bunch of oblivious girls to fangirl over him.

"So, how it feels to know what girls think of you, uh?" she asked, quirking a brow in curiosity.

Chris scoffed. "Harassing." He hoarsely replied.

Rebecca heartily laughed and softly slapped his shoulder. "Oh shut up! You loved it!"

Chris flashed one of his bratty, wide grins against the bottle orifice. "Touché."

"I can see your ego inflating from here!" She bantered.

"Alright, your compliments were so flattering but sometimes you kinda scared me, you bunch of little perverts!" Chris said, satisfying the girl's want for more details.

"Welcome to girlhood!" She sassed.

For a while, they looked through the window above the sink, watching his parents chattering far in the distance, probably arguing about the state of their garden, in the silver light of the approaching dusk. It was all so quiet on the outside alike it was so noisy inside the weary mind of the boy.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca." Chris murmured, thumbing the sweat off the fridge-cool plastic bottle.

"What for?" She asked.

"For like every-"

"It was a rhetorical question, Chris." She tittered, cutting him off. "You got nothing you should be sorry for."

The big boy side-glanced at her over his bicep.

"You couldn't breathe a word about what happened. So you didn't even really lie." She continued.

"Still, Jill slapped my face twice."

"Oh, well… Don't mind it." She enigmatically shrugged.

"_Don't mind it_?! I hurt her!" Chris reposted, wide-eyed.

"Naaah..." she waved a dismissive hand. "She's a big girl, she's just fine."

"Becky, do I have to remind you what happened in the shower?"

Rebecca maliciously rolled her eyes away from him – involuntarily glancing at the pantry door… oh, those memories! – and she mewled through her nose. "No need to. But Jill is just… she's just Jill. She slapped you only because she can't slap herself as she's too retarded to realize she'd better seize the day with you and ask you out."

Prior to the silence of the boy, the girl decided to up the ante and coax him to finally leave behind any restriction and make a move on the girl he definitely knew had a crush on him. "You know, Jill may seem a little cold at first but she's so sweet, she can be so affectionat-"

Chris swiftly interrupted her by resting a warm big hand on her forearm. He rather have anything but a nosy wingman giving him unrequested tips. "Rebecca." He earnestly stated, intensely staring at her. "I know how Jill is. I know her too now, remember?"

"Right, right!" Rebecca giggled, scraping her neck, but she soon got serious anew and continued her charge. "Then you know how lost she's for you and how hard it's for her to admit her own feelings."

"I do."

"Then ask her out! Watcha waiting for?!"

Chris sadly shook his head and blew out a breath. He knew he couldn't explain her _why_ he wouldn't ask Jill out, so he preferred to just shut up. But his silence only offered Rebecca the chance to insist in her coaxing attempt.

"Here me out, Big Guy. You already kissed her once! And you even saw her naked, and don't tell me she's not a knockout 'cause I'm punching you, Redfield!" She joked, hoping that a laugh would kick her recommendations in his mind. "You sorta _must_ be attracted to her at this point!"

"Becky, guys don't work that way." Chris gruffed. "It's not just about... boobs and butts. And I'm not looking for a love story right now…" His voice became softer and softer as he spoke those last words. No need to look for what you already have.

He turned back to the girl and locked his hazel, caramel-streaked eyes with her light emerald ones. Rebecca had never seen him so… closely. They say that eyes are windows to the soul and, in the silence of him, while his irises only shuttled between hers, Rebecca tried to explore his soul just to learn that to her he was inscrutable. He had been the girl next desk, next seat, the friend she was so devoted to, but she hadn't learned yet how to read _Chris_ from the inside out. Nonetheless, it seemed to her that some sort of inner desolation transpired to umber his face.

He may be quite a stranger to her, nevertheless she held him dear. In spite of the forced disguise, some kind of connection had established between them, at last, and had lasted over time.

In her illiteracy, she couldn't read his self-blaming thoughts, but she perceived his consternation. And it was more than enough to move her to the bone and compel her to fondly stroke his shoulder.

"I'm not telling you to propose and marry her! But you could date her and just see how it goes! You know, keeping it friendly! You'd have a girl and she wouldn't have to question her feelings for you and everyone's happy!" Rebecca enthused.

"Becky, I can't."

"But why?!" Rebecca eyerolled.

"I can't give her false hope." And he gave her a look that spoke volumes about his inner feelings.

Under the pressure of his earnestness, Rebecca's everlasting smile slowly faded and all her enthusiasm was blown away like dust in the wind. Chris was not into Jill. The hard truth. "Oh… I see…"

Chris ducked his head and began observing the faint pinkish veining in the mineral countertop. His guilt went far beyond the simple regret of having made a girl feel harassed. He couldn't forgive himself for all the false hopes he had actually given Jill when he'd kissed her for his own (and Claire's) purposes. He had deceived and used her. He deserved all the bitch slaps available in this world.

But Rebecca was anything but easy into giving up. If it was not Jill the girl he kept checking on... "Then tell me, Hot Stuff, who's the chick?"

"Mh?" he hummed in confusion.

"You know what I'm talking about."

Chris had to blink a few times before he got her point and remembered a remote series of conversations at the school cafeteria. Nevertheless he was confused. "It was Claire, not me. I thought it was clear by now."

"I mean _these days_. You keep staring at a girl."

"I'm just not."

"I was ready to gamble on Jill!" Rebecca mumbled, ignoring his obvious attempt to deny the evidence. "And I almost convinced even her I was right!"

"It's not her." Chris murmured, downcast with the thought he'd indirectly deluded Jill even more than he imagined.

Rebecca frowned. So who is then? Only one option remained. And it was uncanny. "Geez… isn't it… Ashley?!"

"Oh, Jesus, no!" Chris exclaimed and gave her a dirty look. The squealing blonde would be like the missing icing on the cake in that quirk afternoon and he'd rather... not. "How could you even suspect such a thing? I'm downright ashleyed out! I'd never… brrr!" And shuddered.

"Oh, you eventually get used to her after a couple of years…" Rebecca laughed, quite relieved.

"Two years?! No thanks!" Chris exclaimed.

"So, is this girl actually Claire? Like she said?" Rebecca asked, unawares she had put the boy in a state of utter agitation.

Chris listened trying not to betray his new rush of fright. Before any reaction, he had to make sure he had heard well. Had Claire told her friends he was actually staring at her? No, no… there must've been some reason behind it for sure! Claire would've never…

"What did Claire say?" He gingerly asked, trying to feign a mere curiosity.

"She said you look only at her and nobody else – not that it makes any sense though – uhm… In fact she said she doesn't really know why you do it, she just presumes it helps you dealing with…" Rebecca trailed off as she suddenly realised she was minimizing her friends' sufferings just for the obstinacy of wanting to be right – and get Jill a boy. "I'm sorry. It's… it's none of my business."

"No worries, Egghead." Chris attempted to joke and ease her. "But Claire's right… it helps me."

"So… you really don't feel like hanging out with a girl? Not even a tiny tiny bit?" She asked more to kid than to coax him for one last time, pinching an imaginary little grain of want-to-have-a-girlfriend between her index finger and thumb.

"I already have anything I need. Family, Claire, friends. Even a new nosy one!" He replied and cupped the back of her crown to tenderly draw her short hair into his little, affectionate peck. "We're lucky to have someone like you." He added as he let go of her smiling head.

"Huff… as you wish! But if you'll ever change your mind…" Rebecca winked and flashed him a bright smile. "Don't hesitate! I'll find you a… _valentine_!"

Chris reached out with his arm, looped it around her and drew her frame into his hug. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

Rebecca and Chris shared a little moment of silence in their friendly hug, the very first hug they'd ever shared, yet it felt so right and comfortable as if they were two old time friends.

"Alright, big guy. Lick your wounds. And when you'll be better, just know I'll strike back!" She cheered and drew back from his embrace, but he didn't let her. Instead he held her close and speared his gaze dead in her eyes.

"Leon's a good guy." He muttered after a long moment of just watching. "But if he ever fucks up with you, tell me." He murmured with all the protectiveness of the good natural-born older brother. "_You_ don't hesitate, ok?"

"Sure thing. So you can come and save his ass from my kicks!"

* * *

**This was the third part. The fourth needs some more work and it will conclude this weird day in their lives and the chapter as well. **

**A big thank you to Xaori for her super-precious tips and hilarious comments! And thank you to awanami08 for the suggested quote I'm sure won't pass unnoticed.**

**See you all in… I hope in 7 days… I can't promise how long it will take me. Anyway see you all soon!**

**P.S. Do you remember the Redfield's house floor maps I drew and posted on my Instagram? Well, I'm about to post the 3D versions I did just for fun. In case you wanna take a look at them, simply search for a straw hat on a green wall named masteroffangirlingart on Instagram or "girlishnerd" Twitter.**


	26. Showdown (4 of 4)

**Here's to you the last part of this long playlist, this time brought to you by Gianna Nannini and Lady GaGa. It is dedicated to all the fellow fangirls and fanboys out there. I wrote it thinking of you all.**

**Have you noticed I have a passion for quoting the games' lines? No? How come?!**

* * *

**Chapter 20 – Showdown (4 of 4)**

* * *

**Part 10 – Bello e impossibile**

"C'mon Leon, let's go." Claire exhorted, leaving the small entryway and gesturing to follow her into the adjacent living room. "Let's leave the _girls_ some privacy." She joked, mostly to shake herself from her own thoughts of sisterly concern.

Exhaling a long sigh – as she'd just come home from a wearing, lengthy workday – Claire slumped her exhausted frame onto the first couch she came across and resisted the temptation to toe her shoes away, cross her feet upon the coffee table and finally blow out the relief breath that hellish day only kept delaying. Hadn't she got guests nor Lily in the whereabouts, she wouldn't have given it any second thoughts.

What a day!

If earlier in the morning, anyone had told her she'd have to face such an emotionally challenging, high-paced series of events she'd have rather dug her face in the pillow, stayed in bed and skipped the whole day – especially if that would've spared her Wesker's bony claws. The quality of the day had certainly improved after lunchtime, though. Something inside her told her that afternoon would've turned out even more useful than the temporary pleasure the necking with Chris could cause. Claire had to admit that, under the thick layer of tiredness, she had been kind of regenerated, like a device after a long upgrading session or that receives a shot of electricity after too many hours of dead battery.

With a deft and fast twirl of her wrist she threw her ponytail beyond the backrest's top and reclined her head onto it. A smile bloomed on her mouth, both for such silly tech similitudes her brain profusely ejected and for the hilarious thought that Jill and Rebecca could be considered her human power-banks! The smiling crease on her face softened incredibly as she thought that then Chris was to be considered her personal charging cable! The malice that had been hiding into her brain right behind the corner, took advantage of that spotlight to jump on stage and chant the gest of Chris's lovely _cable_ and the wonders it did any time it plugged her to charge her up.

After some dawdling in absently observing the pictures Lily's furnishing good taste had neatly collected and arranged in years, Leon eventually sat down next to Claire, while she was still pondering whether to throw her shoes away or to be a well-mannered host.

Leon didn't immediately put himself at ease upon that comfortable couch. He faltered. He was stuck at the centre of a tornado of feelings: everything spun fast around him but he stood immobile. He felt like having another cigarette, he also wanted to go home and run from Claire but he desired to hug her too, to watch her and ignore her, to kiss Rebecca, to ask Claire what damn sortilege she'd casted upon him and to please never break it and to set him free at the same time. But more than anything, he wanted to punch Chris. The young boy had no doubts about that. Chris had hurt him. And who gives a fuck if he was hurt too! A part of him wanted to justify his best friend's demeanour and understand his confusing instability, but all the rest of him simply refused. Chris was over eighteen years old and, honestly, Leon expected a more mature attitude by him by then, certainly not that childish, dickish, unnecessary bullshitting of a few minutes before.

Leon shakily blew his frustration out along with a sough and heavily rubbed his face into his palms.

The silence in the living room was so dense it could be cut with a knife. But there was just that bothering, inopportune, tiny voice in his head warning him to beware the conversation going on in the kitchen. Such a hella instable Chris could effortlessly tell Rebecca she was wasting her time to a boy who was still lost for his sister, and Leon was so confused he couldn't even get to deny it convincingly if confronted.

Pretending to be counting the remaining cigarettes in his tin holder, Leon tried to convince himself that Chris was still Chris despite all the rotten shit beneath his scalp. He'd never discredit a friend in the eyes of a girl. In hindsight – and more persuasively – Chris was too motherfucking sly and possessive to miss out such a precious occasion to have a suitor of his sister to neutralize himself that easily.

All things considered, he could rely on the odds being in his favour.

With a long, self-encouraging sigh, Leon tilted his head back as well and rested it alike Claire did. He raked his fingers through the blond short strands that usually covered his forehead and combed them backwards, leaving his handsome visage fully exposed.

"Your brother's a bastard." Leon uttered. "Sometimes."

Not receiving answers, he turned to eye her.

Claire laid eyes closed, seemingly doing some breathing exercises, by inflating and emptying her lungs rhythmically under the hands she had crossed upon her belly. That short glance brought him back to when Claire's breathing was frenetic, erratic, her chest was heaving and twitching, and her face – at least _her_ expression – was light years away from the quiet calm now spurting out that non-sleeping Beauty next to him.

That afternoon must've not been a piece of cake for her either. Who knows how many squabbles and misunderstandings she'd been through with her friends for the bullshit done by her brother in that hellish month he'd spent in her shoes. Leon preferred to not question and leave her alone for a little, after all he could bet his head Rebecca would've buried him under tons of her reports as soon as they'd have left.

"Don't call him bastard." Claire groaned and, opening only one beautiful eye, she side-glanced back at him. "You have no idea."

Leon gulped down hard at the huge amount of feelings that sole ocean blue iris conveyed and aroused in him – as if there weren't enough already! He looked down and away and regretted he had combed his hair back as now he had no curtains to give him shelter from her one-eyed look. "Sorry."

"Don't be." She continued with the same tone of slight condescension. "I have no idea either."

They locked gazes for a moment before giggling in unison.

"Well, I can't believe you haven't but… thanks." Leon smiled warmly.

"Did you two had a fight?" she asked.

"Not really. But he was heating up, you know." He mumbled and scoffed.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry, Leon. But please, don't judge him if he..." Claire shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "It only hurts him more. Especially if it comes by a best friend like you."

"Never judged him a single moment. But he was really testing me out there." He said, reminiscing Chris's annoying control issues and delusions of omnipotence. "And I was heating up too. Thankfully, Jill came first."

"…And cooled him down for good, right?" She jokingly taunted, failing to imagine a pissed Leon.

"Well, Chris can use a couple of slaps every now and then. Just to remind him to stay grounded." Leon mumbled. "And only girls can hope to survive such a thing!"

A hearty laugh and a nod were all she added to that conversation. She wanted to close her eyes again and pretend to be on a beach with flocks of flamingos partying all around, definitely no shoes on and – why not – a fresh drink in her hand but she feared it was unpolite to space out when you have guests.

Leon kept staring at her whilst another voice in his mind, more judicious this time, urged him to talk.

"How are you?" He asked with a bare whisper.

"You know… just… surviving…" She lamely replied in a babyish voice, stretching an indecisive smile.

"I mean now. Are you feeling alright?"

The concern in his voice was all she needed to hear to understand what he was talking about. Claire tiredly sighed and stretched her neck backwards even more, as she didn't entertain the idea of another demanding conversation, and the one Leon was looming was possibly the hardest. But Leon deserved an answer.

"I'm fine, thank you." Claire turned her head to him and returned the smile blooming on his face.

"Chris said you're striving a little to… heal."

They had talked about her. The thing didn't surprise her much.

"A little, yes. But Chris knows how to make me feel good." Claire soothed, giggling inwardly. Oh, yeah. Chris knows how to.

"I never doubted it. I was sure you'd have looked after each other, even if I didn't know what was messing with your lives."

Claire was brought back in memories too. It seemed to her to be back on Ryman's balcony, with the pale golden light of the sunset swiftly fading, and Leon who, with his being an exquisite person, proved her he was an excellent friend and not only of Chris but of her as well. She'd have never forgotten how heartfelt his worrying for her was even if she wasn't _officially_ present.

Not getting – nor willing either – to curb a smile, Claire placed her hand on his and squeezed it emotionally. "Thank you, Leon. You have no idea how precious you've been to me and how fucking grateful I'm for you being there when I needed it the most."

Leon lost no time in turning his hand turtle below hers and entwined their fingers together. She'd needed him. That thought alone was worth all the fights with a pissed Chris. Her cool fingers laced around his hand elicited a warmth to ignite within his soul. It was a first time for both and both couldn't help but inwardly awe for how easy the touch had been and how perfectly their hands joined, as if their fingers already knew the way to nestle into each other by heart.

"I wish I could've done more." He said, staring at their tight connection.

"What more could you ever do?"

"Dunno." He replied, gingerly thumbing the back of her hand, just a little, just to savour the smooth of her skin. "Anything to help you… two."

"You simply couldn't." She spoke softly, in raw sincerity. "Only Dad barely did and fixed the shit but he couldn't help us any different anyway." She clutched his hand a little tighter. He always made her feel so comfortable with his imperturbable calm and the certainty of an unassuming, wholehearted gaze and soul. She felt she had to comfort him.

He appreciated it more than she suspected. "My only consolation was to know that your brother was by your side. I mean, he may be a douche sometimes but he'd rather die for you."

Claire nodded. "Chris has never stopped being close for a single moment, not even when we were parted." She said, a little smile growing on her as long as she thought of her brother. "Not even now."

A dark blond eyebrow jumped up on its own, betraying its owner's inner reaction.

_Not even now that he'd better cut you some slack, Claire!_

Translating his thought into words, Leon addressed her a pointed look. "Don't you think he's uh… being a little _too close_?"

Claire looked at him bewildered. The fuck he was saying?! Oh God, what did he know?! "What do you mean…?" She asked with more alarm in her voice than she wished.

Another criticizing eyebrow joined its partner on Leon's forehead and together furrowed in a slight frown as he tried to muster the right words to tell Claire, in the politest way possible, that her brother was a motherfucking hell of a pain in the ass for all the boys in the world. "Don't you think he's a bit too extra with all his jealousy? Jesus Christ, Claire! He made a scene for… well… I mean, he treats you as you fucking belonged to him!"

Claire let out the relief breath she'd been holding all along. "This may be the impression he gives but, trust me, he's anything but treating me bad or hurting me."

"Oh, so keeping every damn guy in the school away from you is not treating you bad?"

"Every?! You're the one exaggerating here, Leon!" Claire giggled. "I'm not that popular or attractive!"

"You kidding me?!" Leon scoffed, incredulous of what he heard. "You're fucking gor…geous…" He bashfully trailed off, looking away and gulping down all the adjectives that had popped up in his head like daisies in springtime.

Claire felt flattered but said nothing. Not even a thank you. Both kids knew what was coming next and none of them truly entertained the idea of speaking about it. Honestly, Claire only wanted to quit talking and enjoy the silence whereas Leon slowly grew determined not to let anything unspoken. They simply couldn't keep beating around the bush.

"Chris told you about the kiss…"_…We never shared._ Leon said. Not a supposition but a plain affirmation. Chris had left no room for doubts when he'd made fun of him back on Friday night in the kitchen.

"Oh, you should've seen him! He was so upset!" She hysterically chuckled and tucked a rebel tendril behind her ear.

"Trust me, I saw him!" Leon exclaimed and palmed his sternum with his free hand. "And so did my ribcage!"

"I'm sorry things went this way, Leon." Claire said softly. "I'm sorry this shit made it awkward between you two."

"I'm in one piece." He minimized, stretching a faint smile.

The two fell in an uncomfortable silence made of fleeting gazes and deep breaths. That shit hadn't made it awkward only between Chris and Leon. Claire and the boy next to her could've spent a whole afternoon bantering about that time "Chris got kissed by his best friend", but it wouldn't have erased the embarrassing awareness that _he_ had wanted to kiss _her_ because he freaking liked her.

"You know…" Leon said and cleared his throat clumsily and noisily. "For weeks I felt so guilty for having… assaulted you?"

Meh…

He wasn't sure it was the best choice of words, it made him feel a little bit of a pig._ Assaulted. More like kissed without consent, maybe? Kissed by blunder? Awkwardly exposed my feelings?_

Ew.

Leon cringed even more. Any way he tried to put it, it'd still feel displeasing and shameful. He eventually gave up in trying to properly define what had happened – after all, it wouldn't have changed the outcome. "But now I'm relieved to know it wasn't you."

Yes.

No.

No. No. No. No! NO!

"I m-mean… errr… not that I didn't… but, you know, ugh! You're so… and I… I wish it was yo- no, wait." He stuttered and came to a halt, clenching his jaw and puckering his eyelids shut at his own awkwardness. The more he tried, the more he'd get stuck. Claire's amused gaze was locked on him and all but fucking up his brain. His embarrassment was so tangible that he just might as well dig his own grave, lay into it and wait for starvation to take him.

_This_, this never happened when it was about Rebecca. He'd never lose it up when she was around. She made him feel so easy, so cool. Who knows? Maybe it was because she was even more awkward and shy than him. But Leon was not a shy guy, nor a particularly awkward person. He only became when it was about Claire. She'd always make him feel uncomfortable by her mere presence. Maybe it was still the "trauma" from "her" bad reaction at his kiss but he couldn't help feeling nervous beside her. And he couldn't deny he loved the feeling of having her beside him.

"Steady now, Leon." Claire said, determined to get him out of his own rut. "I get what you mean and it's so sweet of you."

Leon shook his head and chuckled. That was the first time he was finally spending some one-on-one time with Claire – for real – and he had managed to look like a total bonehead in less than five minutes. _That's a record, Kennedy! _And to make things even worse, the irony of life was giving him this chance only when he'd found another girl! Life's a bitch sometimes.

"You're really a nice guy Leon." Claire continued. "I know how bad it must've made you feel such a thought. You know_, I knew_. Chris blurted it all out as soon as you left. I wished I…"

Leon turned his head towards her, expectantly.

"…I wished to tell you not to worry about it but I couldn't. The fake Chris couldn't talk like a Claire. _He_ wasn't supposed to know. And I didn't feel like having to break your bones just for the sake of… my shitty secret!" The girl whispered melancholically as their looks repeatedly met to finally lock. "You were so caring, always by my side even if you didn't know it was me and I… I wished I could tell you everything throughout."

A handful of words, barely susurrated but louder than a thunderstorm, unrestrained, heartfelt, simply slipped out of his lips. "I wish it was you that day."

Claire moved her mouth wordlessly at such a wince-worthy confession, like a fish out of water. His words bolted like an arrow through her and they'd have surely hit her in the core of her teen heart if only the clashing thought of Rebecca didn't interpose itself.

He was dating Rebecca. He shouldn't, he oughtn't to talk like that! This wasn't supposed to happen. NO! He oughtn't to look at her like that, with his impossibly limpid eyes, shining under those slightly furrowed eyebrows, half-hidden by the blond locks… that dangled to graze his adorable manly cheekbones and framed the bony structure of his gorgeous face…

Claire had to avert her eyes but failed to do it. The light blue of his was like a magnet made for attracting people. She hoped he averted first but apparently he got magnetized by hers in return.

He was so close she could almost feel the heat radiating from his limbs. Not that he was getting closer or so, but suddenly, to be only sitting on the same couch became too intimate, therefore inappropriate. Their shoulders grazed each other and electricity rushed through them from the tangled hands up to the toes of their feet.

His tone, his eyes, the perfect shape of his moist lips it all was so enticing that Claire had a hard time gulping down her rapture. She'd never been that close to him, never had his eyes pierced into hers for so long and so intensely. She'd never seen him nibble his lower lip and lick it to moist it even more, and she was sure she'd never been… OH!

He raised his free hand – as for absolutely no fucking reason he'd unlace his right one from hers – peeled his shoulders off the comfy backrest and slightly turned to her to graze her round, quickly flushing cheek with the back of his fingers and stealing her breath. No, Leon Kennedy was no shy guy. Now his face was just a few inches away from her burning one. Her blush had warmed up her soft skin but the touch burnt him like an ardent ember. He oughtn't to. Not with Rebecca next room. Not with _Chris_ next room. But none was enough to prevent him from saying, as his look dropped onto her voiceless lips, "maybe, you'd have been gentler…"

Claire couldn't tell whether in that moment Leon was playing the role of the cunning ladies man or if it was simply his innate courtesy, kindness, honesty that had compelled him to be so explicit and outspoken and daring. But he had to stop. Or to be stopped.

"I wouldn't bet on it." Claire spelled – or better, _gasped_. The girl got a grip on herself and, meanwhile she unlaced her left hand from his, she gently peeled his away from her cheek with the other, careful to make it as sweetest as possible – _if_ possible. Last thing she wanted was to hurt him. "I'd never do anything like that to Rebecca. She's like a sister to me." She said, disguising her concealed, subtle warning as a confession.

Now, definitively, the real last piece of the puzzle found its place in the wider picture. And he understood, everything. He understood any implicit smile, any holler, any hint she had addressed him during the drinking game… He finally figured out why Claire seemed so happy when… _oh_.

Leon smiled in admiration, sadness, joy and brought his hands back onto his own thigh, but not into her grab – he didn't dare to figure out if she'd take him back in it.

Even if in the veranda there had been the _real_ Claire, soul and body together joined, she'd have turned him down just the same. For her best friend's sake. For loyalty. And who better than Leon Scott Kennedy can appreciate the loyalty in a person?

"Is that why you preferred to drink over kissing me?" he asked in a honeyed voice.

"Totally." Claire nodded, trying to convey as much determination as possible with her look. "And I'd do it all over again. I mean, you and Becky are dating and I'm sincerely happy for her."

"Well, I can't say I'm not happy to have met her too!" Leon smiled.

Claire was relieved to hear that and she wanted to resolve the matter once and for all before Rebecca would reappear from the kitchen and fucking read her mind. Or his. Rebecca had to never read anything was written on Leon's face by then. Ever! She had to keep her best friend free from any tormenting suspicion! It had to be clear that there was no rivalry there.

_He's yours Becky._

"Do you like her?" she wondered, holding her breath and staring at him with expectant eyes.

He blushed a little under the second insistent questioning about his feelings from the second Redfield in a row but he was determined not to look like a total loser. Although she'd done it for friendship's sake, Claire had ultimately _friendzoned_ him. He had to save face somehow. "I do." He replied, and to underline that he wasn't lying, he added "a lot."

Claire beamed and suddenly the room brightened of an evening dawn. Getting over every last shred of embarrassment, she hugged him like she was used to hugging Leon: like Chris would, like a boy. Like a real bro. She looped an arm around his shoulders and heavily patted his back. Leon returned the hug and smiled too. Despite she'd just turned him down, he couldn't stop feeling good, happy to be close to her. The foreigner pleasure of her closeness numbed any sadness. Claire was so nice, lovely, loyal… he saw in her everything he evaluated the most in a person and he knew he wanted her to be a part of his life, anyhow. As a friend maybe? He'd never considered it before but why not? It felt too good to have her near to reject the idea of a friendship with her. Especially when it appeared as the last option available. If it was okay for Becky…

Speaking of Rebecca, when Claire parted his hug, she addressed him a naughty grin. "Break her heart and I'll pulverize your legs, amputate your dick and curl your bangs."

"Chris…?! Is that you?" He giggled tousling her ponytail, surprised not surprised by how much in that moment she was reminding him of her brother. _Redfields!_ "Just leave your sister's body alone!"

"Ha! You wished it were him! You'd have less to fear, trust me!"

* * *

**Part 11 – Plastic Doll**

Claire had intuited that night's sex was going to be different since he'd asked her to come downstairs barefoot.

Truth be told, she wasn't expecting for any sex that night. Certainly not after seeing him stand up from the dinner table with the same agility of who bears the burdensome vault of heaven on his shoulders. At his mother's question if he wanted some dessert before going to bed, he had replied with a "gotta study" in the shape of a yawn.

In point of fact, the Maths book was still splayed across his desk, untouched since a triple human _coup de théâtre_ had rolled into his house to perturb the serenity he had inherited from the not yet worn off endorphins of the previous night's fuck. Neither had it received any attention after both Rebecca's crystalline laughter and Leon's maniacally accurate hairstyle no more stirred in the house, when he had stomped into his closet, hurled his duffel bag onto the mattress, zipped up sweatpants, tank top, towel and worries into it and stalked to his car to work his ass off at the gym.

Claire, instead, didn't mind a generous slice of the yummy cake and, between a forkful of cream and one of sponge, she discussed the daily events – Wesker excluded - with her parents. Or better: with Robert.

Lily only pretended to take part in the conversation with a few nods and hums, quietly lavished every now and then. With her pointy elbows exceptionally rested onto the tabletop, she fiddled with her pearl earrings, pivoting the gold needle in the tight hole and massaging her earlobe right after as she usually did any time she was getting lost in her motherly thoughts.

Chris's perennial weariness fretted her as much as her daughter's persisting (yet softening) panic attacks did. The hardly concealed terrified look on her son's face during dinner – as if the peas were some terrorist plotting along with the steak - hadn't done anything to appease her, and nothing came of her questions as she only received a smile that pretended to be heartening and a sweet "no worries, Mom". Sometimes she had the impression that her son trudged through the days, crawling on his elbows through the daytime hours only to burrow into his bed at night.

To make things worse, Robert didn't seem to notice. "He's too busy running after chicks." He'd always dismiss it any time she'd bring it up, not without a pinch of male pride, remindful of his son's very words of a few days before when he'd admitted he was banging a girl somewhere. "He's got a whole month of missed necking to recover!"

Lily almost ripped her earring off in irritation. Men can be so obtuse sometimes, she thought as she absently answered her husband's blabber with a most endearing smile, that he answered with a suggestive wink.

It was very late when, in the rosy light of Girly Room, Claire rested on the nightstand that mind-blowing page-turner that Sheva had lent her and curled below the blankets. Before turning off the flamingo lamp and finally wave bye-bye to that never ending day, her heart glanced one last time through the closet, where presumably Chris was sitting down by his desk, in the hope that he had already finished his homework and finally gotten to climb into bed too. Even though she snorted at the thought that he probably had fallen asleep on his copybook to directly wake up the following morning with the pen still caught in his hand, a stain of saliva on the sheet, a wicked stiff neck and a nice Ada Wong-signed _F_ coming at him. She preferred to not disturb him to figure it out. Maths was the subject she had damaged the most and he couldn't afford to fail it. And she was sure that if she showed up in his room, he'd have rather done her than his homework. Regarding her, the heartfelt chattering with her friends, albeit difficult and arousing mixed feelings, had left her relieved. To pour her heart out had done her undoubtedly good. She could afford to skip a dose of her medicine.

"Goodnight, Chris." She smiled to the silence in her room and turned the light off.

Beep.

_Chris: See you in the basement. No slippers._

Against any prediction, he was still up and… already downstairs, apparently.

**Claire:** _On my way, Captain! Don't get started without me eheheheh (heart)_

It felt strange to descend the stairs in pitch darkness and without his warm hand clutched around hers, the sole guide to always lead her in the dormant house. The tepid coolness of the wooden floor easily trespassed the thin cotton barrier of her socks, but she couldn't hurry up, risking a clangourous tumble down the staircase. Nor did she question his specific request.

She didn't need to. She perceived her brother's jitters and presumed that his bizarre behaviour simply meant that he was on utmost alert.

And she was plain right.

His whole demeanour since their friends had broken into their house – and afternoon – manifested how distressed he was. She knew him too well not to guess that those recent investigations done at their backs were more than enough to induce him not only to don't let down his guard, but also to increase it.

To leave the slippers on Girly Room's fluffy rug was just a precaution to reduce the noise to the minimum and, accordingly, the risk of waking their parents.

As she appeared, he welcomed her in his arms, hastily closed the door in total silence and pricked up his ears to ascertain if anybody else was sneaking in the dark. Claire found him already hard and geared up for the intercourse. Her joking about his jerking off all alone down there when he had _her_ available for all the hand-jobs he needed, it was answered by a forefinger rested against her pursed lips to shush her. He took off his shirt and replaced his finger with his clashing lips – not giving her even the time to sigh at the sight of his chiselled pectorals.

He parted her legs, parted her labia but the sole thing he wouldn't part was their kiss. His obsessive plugging her mouth with his was just another precaution, to prevent her from moaning out loud, and dumb her natural tendency to vocalize her arousal. Although it was hard, Claire yielded to this silent – literally – request of him.

Now, if there ever was a sacred thing for Chris, then it was definitely foreplay.

It always started in their chat when, before meeting up by his door, they usually did a little flirting just to spice it all up and put them in the mood for sex. That night, instead, Chris had gone straight to the point – he hadn't even asked her if she was feeling like it!

Yeah, sex was definitely gonna be totally different.

The way he was screwing her only confirmed her theory. Every thrust of him was restrained yet fiery. Chris was both leaden and turned on, aroused and wary, heated up and bone-tired.

She sensed him aflutter, tense, chary as they made love. While she was mother-naked – as her one-piece pyjamas didn't allow any different option – he had only pulled his shirt off and lowered the waistband of his pyjamas' pants just that little enough to free his member in order to penetrate her.

Chris kept her pinned against the wall, holding her tilted by the thighs she had looped around his waist and, in his oppressive kissing, he let only a few breathy sighs to accompany the rhythmic melody of their union. It was lights years away from the red-hot, rough grunts he'd usually bath her ears with.

Ultimately, that night Claire had to settle for a quickie.

Although his touch left goosebumps on her skin, the immediacy and haste in which he'd started to penetrate her, compelled her to grit her teeth and wait for her wetness to raise and ease his doing inside her walls. It took him a while to take her at his same level of arousal.

Diligently gulping down a moan that nearly escaped the inflexible barrier of her brother's lips, Claire also downed a totally inopportune feeling that rose within her. Insomuch as the pleasure was pervading, a small portion of her brain resisted the anesthetizing effect of Chris's expert (yet dull) ministrations, and it continued to overthink, ruminate the taste of all that dynamic. She felt kind of... reduced… to… a mere hole… into which to friction the penis and nothing more. A simple sexual pleasure dispenser. A stunning doll to mindlessly plough.

Being the only one completely naked, Claire felt just a tiny-bit-a-little-eensy-weensy-pinch of a prostitute. Alright, alright, she suppressed that word even before it was wholly formed in her brain, but the concept wouldn't change. You need to empty your balls? You call the girl who always lets you get her laid, she comes, you come. Simple and effective. But… was it the case? If asked, Claire would've answered "no, but…"…but it _feels_ like it.

Not that Chris was minding only his own pleasure – then again, he was very attentive to hit the right spots inside her, ready to fight back and screen all the blissful moans he'd elicit in her, he was really in control of everything, although he was falling under the fear of being utterly fucked by uncontrollable events – but that total lack of context and foreplay, the way his penis was barely unclothed as if _it_ was in a hurry, it all made her feel a little objectified.

She was his gloryhole.

_NO! NO! NO! _

Claire needed to shake her head in order to shake those thoughts off her mind but Chris didn't let her.

_He's just prudent and nervous!_

The approaching of her orgasm contributed to deaden those little shreds of bitterness. There was nothing Claire wouldn't have done in order to grant Chris even the littlest crumb of that relief she'd so luckily got on that extraordinary day. She was ready to do anything alike he had always done anything and more to make her feel good, safe, loved, desired.

If he asked her to do it from the rear she'd have simply turned, held back her pained tears, and let him take whatever last virginity he wanted from her. If that was a way to make him feel safer, she'd have toed the line. Chris comes before anything else.

Her orgasm was swallowed by him. One moan at a time until her body stopped trembling, caged between the cool tiled wall and his frame.

She smiled against his lips.

Even though he had deprived her of the insane sight of his body, of the foreplay, of his gruff voice, even if he was screwing her at the minimum of his skills, it had been a big fucking orgasm anyway!

Now she could focus only on him.

She caressed him in every way that tilted position allowed her and kept kissing him until she felt him stiffen and tighten the grip on her butt-cheeks, as he gave the last few ponderous thrusts while his release rolled his eyes back and tilted his nose to the ceiling.

Numbed by the orgasm, his big head collapsed onto the curve of her neck and there it'd have stayed until the fumes of pleasure dissipated. Fortunately, the fuck had annihilated the fatigue of his muscles, thus he could keep her tilted even though he leaned against her and the wall for support lest they collapse to the floor for his sagging legs. Claire peered over his colossal shoulder and glanced at the sink's mirror in front of them, to admire the inverted triangle his broad shoulders and waist ideally traced. She bit her lip as she spotted all the long, subtle nail scratches she'd marked his beautiful back with. Well… her arousal had to vent somewhere!

Claire nuzzled his ear and drizzled it with a rain of tiny pecks but, as soon as he was able again to raise his head, she tilted hers back and looked at him straight in the eyes, fondly smiling.

"Was I a good girl?" she asked, raking her fingers through the sweaty short hair on his nape.

"You were wonderful, honey." Chris panted, returning the same soft smile, his chest still heaving for the strain.

"This is the least I'd do for you." She cooed and rested a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Thank you." He hoarsely whispered.

Claire inhaled that short blow of hot breath like it was an elixir of life. Yeah, maybe she was slowly managing to ease his worried mind. She'd have calmed him and convinced him that they had nothing to worry about. Nothing more than usual at least. Even at the risk of going to bed at dawn (or don't go at all), Claire would've fulfilled her volition.

Chris gently placed her down on her feet and turned to the sink to take care of the condom. She followed him on his heels and slid her bare arms around his bust to hug him from behind, throughout kissing the signs of her wild passion on his skin. "Chris, would you like taking a bath with me?"

"It's late as fuck, Claire." He gruffly muttered.

"It's not later than other nights!" She replied. "C'mon, let's relax a little together, shall we? Just you and me."

Her tone was too endearing for him to stand a chance to resist her. But then… what sense would've made all those precautions he had imposed themselves if now he _undressed_ and took a _bath_ with her, _nude skin against nude skin_? It was too risky. "Claire, if they come downstai-"

"Honey. They never did. And we're already past the noisiest part of the night! And Daddy just fixed the boiler, now you can't hear it start not even if you're in the same room!" Claire smiled as he turned towards her. She leered at him from head to toe, or at least… from head to the satiny tip of his penis, still jutting out of his pants, and she sighed in need. "Please… I missed you so much today!"

The kiss that accompanied that last begging sealed his capitulation. Chris was too pooped to offer resistance and, moreover, he couldn't deny he'd often fantasized about having her naked and wet in a bathtub with him. "Alright, but don't get your hair wet. No hairdryer by night."

* * *

**Part 12 – Heal Me**

Claire knotted her ponytail into a high bun and sat on the bathtub edge.

She observed Chris's ripped frame standing up beside her as they waited for the flowing water to reach the ideal temperature. He was so painfully handsome. His muscles were still buffed by the hard workout and stretched his skin to shape the unreal titan he was. Chris noticed the adoration drenching her stare and exceptionally smiled. It was so good to be watched in the same way he always watched her.

The two nude siblings stepped into the bathtub and let the faucet fill the remaining space with hot water, enveloping them in a warm caress. Chris had to fold his legs to fit in, whereas Claire squatted and knelt on his lap, straddled it, and squished her butt against his tilted thighs. She leaned onwards and stuck her flat belly against his muscular one. She kinda regretted they had just finished having sex as now she was curious to try that hot position, even hotter than the boiling water that surrounded them.

Being above him, she framed his big head in her arms and bowed to tenderly kiss him, without smacking her lips. The silence reassured him? Fine, she'd have kissed him with the stealth of a ninja then! No matter how superfluous it seemed to her.

Chris totally appreciated her cuddles and let her smother him with kisses, giving her the chance to return the favour received earlier in the afternoon.

That's what they were for each other. A reciprocal lending of a helping hand to save each other when one was sinking. Their heads danced together, their mouths breathlessly chased each other, each one fighting to nest into the other for shelter.

Throughout Chris raked his wide-open palms up and down the expanse of her curved back, the crystalline tingling of water accompanying his hands any time they re-emerged. He massaged her skin alike he was massaging her tongue and lips with his. He stroked her this way for a while before idly resting his hands on her butt underwater.

After a long, passionate reverence paid to his lips, Claire raised her head anew and watched him while, despite his closed eyes, he kept the expression of ecstatic rapture he put on every time they necked.

Claire's kisses began trailing down his crispy jawline, as to ideally heal the burn those poisonous slithering fingers of Wesker left indelibly on his mind a long time ago. She couldn't help the memory of her pervy teacher to replay in her mind every now and then. It was beyond her control. He'd just keep resurrecting and disgust her. And what aggravated it all, was that she knew that Chris had felt that same way, because of her body. She felt obliged to heal him.

She let him recline his head on her hands as, exhausted, he couldn't keep it up anymore. Although she couldn't get him to relax his neck's muscles, at least she got his Adam's apple more exposed to her loving attention.

She quietly chuckled as it seemed to her to hear a gentle snoring.

The tiredness, the water warmth, the post-coital torpor and her cuddles were a fatal mix. Notwithstanding, Claire kept going in her purposeful necking, determined to let him enjoy as much as possible that wholesomeness. She'd have cuddled him until her fingertips wrinkled for the water, then she'd have woken him up sweetly, with her lovey-dovey kisses and they'd have gone back to their rooms for a deserved rest. Maybe she could propose to him to sleep together so she'd keep taking care of him even if only with her proximity. So the following morning he'd have gotten up as fresh as a daisy and content – and most importantly, she'd have been the first thing he saw, that alone would've put a smile on his face.

Oh, Chris would've _adored_ such an idea, she was certain! After all, they had often shared a bed in the past and there was absolutely nothing wrong with it. Their parents wouldn't have even slightly questioned. Oh, yes, yes, that was a great idea! Hadn't he been so tired she'd have already woken him up to discuss it with him!

His stubble was prickling and flushing her lips but she didn't care. Aside from his heavy breathing, there wasn't any other sound in the tiny underground room if not the tender, light smacking of her kisses' suction on his skin.

Once her lips went above the jugular, Claire felt through her touch his heart beating calm and slow. Yeah, maybe she'd succeeded to appease him in the end.

The girl pressed her mouth on his skin, rejoicing for each gush of blood that, rushing underneath, transmitted her the beat through her crimson lips. To feel the movement was like feeling the sound of it, and Claire didn't want to stop listening to the sweetest and most reassuring symphony existing. Therefore, without ever peeling off her lips, she began softly suckling his neck, right there, right above that artery so vital and alive, syncing with the rhythm of his heart.

Not even in their deepest and heartiest penetrations Claire had ever felt more fused to him. Like when they'd make love, Chris set the rhythm while Claire would amplify the melody and enrich it with her passional notes.

It was so good! She couldn't have ever hoed for a better way to end that d-.

"What have I told you about hickeys?" Chris grumbled all of a sudden, crashing the magic of the moment with his hoarse susurration.

"But you love them!" Claire protested, remorsefully stopping their union and music.

Chris had never allowed her to leave a love-bite on him, albeit she knew how much he adored them. It had occurred many times in the past that she'd seen him coming home from a date marked as if an octopus had attempted to strangle him. Hiding behind the fact that he owned no turtleneck sweaters, Chris had always flaunted his hickeys with male pride and a pinch of hauteur.

"I can't go around with a scarf on for the whole day, Claire." Chris replied, irremovable.

"Well, you cou-" she tried to insist.

"I'm not gonna wear a concealer. Never."

Claire shifted upwards again and brought her head back on top of his and framed his tired big face in her thin white arms anew, grazing the tip of his nose with her smile. "Ok, just tell me where you want it then…" she cooed, in a mellow voice. "…and I'll give you as many as you want!"

"I don't want any, thanks."

Her smile flickered. A bare fistful of words and it became extremely difficult for her to keep the exquisite expression of attentiveness that sweetened her visage. Heck, that answer was pretty hard.

In spite of his shut eyes, Chris's face expressed harshness and reproach. As if his inclement gaze was scolding her through eyelids made heavy by the late hour and by a day harder and more demanding than expected.

"I just want you to feel good." Claire murmured.

"I'm good." He lamely articulated.

Conscious of the contrary, Claire didn't lose heart and advanced a new offer. "What about under your nipple? Even your tank tops would cove-"

Chris's hazel eyes flew open, casting fiery lightnings all around. With a loud lapping, his hands emerged and gripped onto her shoulders.

"We must not leave traces, Claire!" Chris exclaimed through gritted teeth, digging the pads of his thumbs in the thin, tender flesh that enveloped the delicate clavicles of the girl and lightly rocked her as to awaken her from the sleep of the reason. Obviously Claire wasn't reasoning in that moment! Oh no no no, she was playing up again! The little girl!

Claire was left speechless by such an unexpected reaction. Only her big blue eyes tried to convey the bewilderment and the rising pain his tightening grip caused her.

"They already sussed the switch, how fucking many other secrets you want to go public, uh?" He continued. "Claire this is not a game!" he said, letting go of her shoulders to cage her head in his big hands, each one covering a half of her face.

He moved too swiftly, too angrily and Claire could only gasp and wince in pain as his forearm battered her sensitive nipple and badly squashed her tit.

For each second she stayed with her eyelids wringed not to hiss in pain, Chris died a little more inside. His touch on her immediately relented and his hands now held her as though she was made of finest crystal. Chris knew even too well how painful female breasts can be when hurt and he made haste to palpate them with delicacy, susurrating his apologies like a broken record.

He had hurt her. He fucking had got to hurt her! Damn him, his muscles, his force and his fears!

He couldn't stand it.

He had to be her almighty titan, a young Atlas able to lift the whole world for the woman who lifted him with her cherry lips, sapphire eyes, blinding smile, lovely voice. But he was only a boy. He couldn't get to accomplish such mythological deeds, he couldn't lift the vault of heaven on his shoulders for real. But he could lift her with the only strength nature had bestowed upon him: his brawns. So he did.

With a loud clangour of sloshing water – fuck the silence, fuck the noise, fuck his parents – he stood up on his knees and pinned her against the wall of the bathtub again, holding her tight. He dove his face into her bosom and kissed both her meaty breasts to erase her pain and to placate his alert and guilt. He almost curled into her cleavage like a child to his mother, seeking protection, comfort. Forgiveness. And she allowed him anything of what he needed and more.

"I didn't mean to…" He dejectedly murmured. "Forgive me."

"No worries, baby." She soothed. "You didn't do it on purpose. It's fine."

"I'm scared, Claire." He muttered inside the soft, wet deep cleft between her boobs, as he gyrated his face into it to graze her skin with his stubbled cheeks.

"Tell me."

"I don't want them to find out about us." He whimpered.

He raised his head from her bosom and kissed her on the lips with desperation as to fuse with her again, until both ran out of air. With their eyes closed, she grabbed his head and gently pulled it down until their foreheads joined.

"I know baby. I can read your mind just as you can read inside mine." She whispered. "I know today scared you but, trust me, no one will ever discover unless we make them."

Claire was never meant to be the good-with-words sibling. She couldn't placate the mind of the older, more experienced brother with her mere words – as it had always been the other way round. But her body… her body could. By diving into her, his mind had always re-emerged purified, relented, numbed, calm. Every time. She was his reliever. His safe harbour.

Claire was _there_. In his arms, under his palms, in his mouth.

No one was bringing her away from him. Then why this time did he fail to relegate in the back of his brain the memory of a day that still had the taste of an alarming close call? He had just had sex! It had always worked, why wasn't it working now? Why was the relief so feeble? Why did he felt he hadn't had enough of her? Was it because of the missing foreplay? Hadn't the intercourse lasted long enough?

Claire caged his lower lip in her teeth and he wanted her to fucking bite him and suck all his grief away, like a vampire. He wanted to feel pain and encourage her to hit and bite him more. He needed it, so he could roar his frustration out until he was utterly empty. He wanted smash some more fists onto the punching bag till his muscles begged for mercy, but he was stuck in the middle of the night and he had to make no damn noise.

"Sleep with me tonight, baby." Claire whispered, as though she'd read his mind for real.

His faint smile couldn't thank her enough. So he kissed her again and nodded. He was quivering. For the cold on his wet skin, the weariness in his brain, the strain of his muscles, the terror in his heart. Before placing her down, he mouthed his condemnation against her lips, silently, unseen by her, unexpected by Fate.

_I love you._

That's all the mattered at the end of the day.

* * *

**I tried to keep it short. And I failed.**

**P.S. In this AU Christopher Redfield starts wearing turtleneck shirts only in his forties u.u. As it should be. If it HAS TO be. **


	27. November Rain

**Those unlockable artworks in the remakes are so inspiring and useful for references, aren't they? _Mutatis mutandis_, let's just pretend there's a darts board in the place of the deer's head, ok? Oh, and a restroom.**

**Don't you worry, this is _not_ going to be another playlist chapter, so please don't mind the main title, it's older than its content.**

**WARNING: some mean girls dynamics ahead. Because _yes_, people can be mean and bitchy no matter their gender.**

**It's a long chapter, but I humbly think it's worth the reading time. Promise me, that when you'll have finished it you'll tell me if I was right.**

* * *

**Chapter 21 – November Rain**

* * *

**Part 1 – Indian Summer**

Saint... Martin? Was it the right saint? Saint Martin's Summer?

Chris couldn't quite recall the name Claire's geography teacher had pronounced during one of those many times the young woman departed from the chart hung on the wall to digress to some anthropological curiosities about other cultures. The boy had a blurred memory of that somewhere in Europe maybe, the unseasonably warm weather occurring in November known as Indian Summer was called differently, but he failed to recall even the countries Miss Harper had listed. In retrospect, it had been quite a month since he'd almost fallen asleep on fake Claire's desk because of the tedious tales of Harper's overseas travels anecdotes, so no wonder he forgot.

Not that remembering it mattered by any means. The temperature was too warm and the sky too sheer for an autumnal Sunday. That was a deadass fact. Nice weather had blessed those past few days with some of the sunniest of the season. Chris lowered the windowpane and rested his elbow on it. Tsk! Even the air in the cockpit was cooler than the one outside.

He killed the engine and waited for the front door of his house to fly open and his sister to appear. _Gimme fifteen more minutes_, she had said like half an hour before. When he had had enough of constantly shuttling between the kitchen and the living room, he had preferred to wait for her inside his car. A little spitefully, he had driven out of the garage and parked on the sidewalk opposite his front lawn, so, had she unluckily been _still_ in the bathroom, she'd have noticed how damn much she was making him wait.

Not that the waiting was unpleasant though.

To exit the confines of his home not to return before late at night was kind of liberating. Sure, he still sensed a thousand eyes locked on him and three thousand pairs of ears listening covertly, but to go outside that evening was calming him down. He could feel the tension risen in his limbs relent with every inch his car advanced in the street. As though some benevolent soul had allowed a little rest to the wires of a violin kept in extreme tension for too long, while the fiddlestick had grinded them on a single, everlasting, acute note of a suspense. A permanent feeling of imminent catastrophe, near to collapse upon him, that he carried in his heart.

Maybe he had reached total saturation and simply needed to let off steam – like a boiler – and he could afford no more explosions in his life.

That sense of liberation was a palliative, not much more, and the poor guy had no idea how ominous it was. He'd have better read the warning signs. He ought to have mistrusted that feeling of wholesomeness. Why was he feeling so good if _she_ wasn't even there? It was an illusion. He knew he wasn't really free. All the chains were still grinding him.

But it was a nice illusion.

Chris adjusted his imponent frame in the driver's seat, reclined his nape on the headrest and glanced at his house and… pretended it wasn't his own. In those last few days he had wished it so hard, so often. To not live in there, to be elsewhere, to have a place on his own where to love his sister in complete freedom. He had never really admitted it to himself but his heart, whom he pretended not to hear, wished he hadn't been born a Redfield in the first place. Chris couldn't have stood such a thought though. By no means he'd repudiate either their family name or their siblinghood, for no other lovers in the whole world would've ever got the same connection they shared.

She was meant to be his, by birth right, by blood.

Still, hadn't they been siblings, to sneak into her house by night would've had a whole different taste: the pure honeyed spiciness of transgression and the crisp frivolity of making the most of the best years of their lives. Instead, he was a Redfield and couldn't change that, and the zest flavour of criminal attitudes was evermore ruined by the acrid one of fear.

But now, inside his car, there was another taste on the rise. A taste of candy, of fruity punch, of youth so mellow and fresh he was almost salivating. And it was all condensed in that stretching moment of solitude. As if his tongue was just reawakening from a night of drought.

That situation tasted too much like a date to dislike it in any way. There was him, the boy, waiting for his girl in the car, to take her out – no, no, better: to take her to the prom! Yeah, Chris could almost see it! Claire would've walked to him in her prom gown and he'd have given her that flowery thing girls love to lace at their wrists, and he'd have been her date for the night and danced and skinny dipped in someone else's swimming pool and fucked the night away somewhere he'd never brought anyone before – and most importantly somewhere he didn't have to fear his own sighs of need and to watch his back instead of watching only her creamy one!

Oh, what a daydream!

Chris licked his lips and glanced down on himself, picturing his sister's bobbing head between his muscular thighs on that very seat – the flowery thingy tied around his erection. A crooked smirk embellished his face like anytime it was about blowjobs. But it wasn't meant to last long.

The front door clicked closed and his jaw literally dropped.

Flawless.

Claire hastily galloped down the few steps and across the narrow cobblestone path, with a mixture of apologizing embarrassment and a bothered frown on her face but she was simply flawless in her cute, little, one-shoulder, fleecy but shape-suiting dress and short heels. Chris's eyes locked on her body and, raptured, they devoured all her movements, every sway of her hips and of her auburn, wavy hair that she, exceptionally, kept down, untied, combed on one side to leave her neck and ear uncovered, highlighting the perfect line of her cheekbone and delicate bare shoulder. She was stunning.

May Saint Martin really bless that fake summer for it was warm enough for her to go around with no tights!

"Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!" She jabbered, getting in the car and tugging down the hem of her dress as she sat down in the passenger seat.

Chris was unable to articulate a single sound. He just kept staring at her as if she were a goddess fallen on Earth. Only when she turned to apologetically smile at him, he noticed she was wearing a flaming red lipstick. He had been too focused on admiring her shape and wondering whether she was wearing or not a bra to acknowledge all the efforts she'd put in her make-up.

"Sorry it took me so long. I just couldn't get the hairstyle good." She whined to the sun visor's little mirror and huffed, unceremoniously shutting it closed. "My hair's a mess."

"You're a masterpiece." He managed to mutter.

Claire loved hearing that every time like the first time. And like the first time, she'd bashfully grin and blush. Something in his voice always made her cheeks fire up any time he talked and _stared_ at her like that.

"Thank you." She said and neatly folded and sleeked her coat above her legs.

"And your hair is perfect. Just like you are." He said softly, grazing her cheek with just two fingers not to ruin her makeup.

Now Claire was totally blushing. Her brother knew how to speak to a girl to make her feel special. "Thank you. You look great too!"

As woken up from his adoration, he cackled in response to her compliment. "If you told me you'd have dressed up, I didn't show up in just this." He said pointing at his dark cashmere V-neck pullover and jeans.

"Dressed up?!" Claire scoffed, looking down at her fleecy, loose dress. "It's just a casual dress!"

"I never saw it before." Chris mumbled, taking advantage of talking about clothes to keep leering at her from head to toe and back. "Otherwise I'd have tried it just to see you looking this hot."

"Well, if you didn't care only about the panties drawer, you'd have noticed it hanging in my closet!" She amusedly laughed and he felt like time had shifted forward straight to the brightest real summer all of a sudden.

He was so in love. He loved everything. Especially that small talk before driving over to the pub. It was _really_ like picking up his date and she was his real-life daydream.

Only one thing was missing to complete the perfect date.

He couldn't kiss her right there, in the car, in front of her house, before heading off. Because it was his house too.

Small detail wholly crashed by all the rest.

He really pondered to kiss her right there though. The temptation was growing strong and pushing him towards her. Let neighbours and parents watch and judge, who gives a shit? His father would've killed him on the spot but he'd have died happy. For the mouth of the woman he loved. Is there in the world a better, worthiest death? Chris didn't think so.

"Argh…" He sighed under his breath and shook his head as he drew back on his seat.

"What?" she laughed.

"I should've rubbed one out." He gruffed, winking at her as he adjusted the crotch of his jeans. "You're too sexy to handle, tonight."

* * *

**Part 2 – Jack's Bar**

The second bright side of the Indian Summer, aside from letting girls shorten their skirts, was that it had pushed half of the population out of their houses after the rainy and uncertain weather that had raged until a few days before had locked them all in. The negative side was that half city had made a dash to downtown.

Parking the car was a big fucking challenge.

Claire's perfectionism in getting ready had already cost them a twenty-minute lateness and, when the siblings finally got to see the luminous sign of Jack Bar, they were _catastrophically_ late. Like forty minutes late. Unacceptable! Kevin had said he'd reserved a table just for all of them, so Chris hadn't to worry about having to spend the night standing up, but to be "the last one showing up" kinda bothered him. Piers and Piers only got dibs on that title!

Chris gently grabbed Claire's hand and used his portly mass to make room for them in the crowd and through the bar's blue double door. His intimidating hard-set brow was to people like Moses was to the Red Sea. To be taller than the average height of those teens hardly being in the age of staying out past 8 p.m., had its advantages. With a brief glance through the teeming room, he immediately spotted his friends – and, as far as he could see, Piers wasn't there. Good! His and his friend's reputations were safe!

"Let's go, baby." He said, tightening his hold around her hand to chivalrously carry her to their table.

* * *

That group date at Chris's gang's favourite bar had been Kevin's idea. The boy wanted to introduce his friends to his new girlfriend, taking advantage of having her in Raccoon City for once. The boy had largely pleaded with the other guys to please bring some girls so Pamela – that was her name – wouldn't have felt too uncomfortable or disoriented by so many new faces (and dumb dudes). Much to Ryman's delight, Leon had showed up with that pretty, delicious brunette who had impressed everyone at the drinking game and Carlos had somehow managed to drag Sheva into a situation she couldn't care less about – no one would've ever discovered how he had achieved coaxing her into it, the boy simply got some wicked talent.

Even though their favours turned out completely useless as Pamela had… come already geared up on her own!

For the whole afternoon, in fact, Ryman had had to haul Pamela's "_bestie_" around with them. Like everywhere. There were the three of them: him, his girl and this five-foot-three third wheel made of boobs, ass, cakey foundation and provocation called Jessica Shana… Shera… Shera_what_? Jessica _Sherawhatever_. He didn't care to take note of her name as, after only ten minutes with her, he was already "_Sherawated out_" and wanted to run away from her unbearable persona, as much protrusive as shallow, stuck-up and snobby. That had to be his Sunday with his girl after a whole week of separation, instead, it had been… ugh, exhausting. And things had even worsened when his friends had arrived, as the curvaceous girl had made a good show of her annoying personality, attracting almost all attention on her.

Basically, his lovely girlfriend was besties with a scene queen. He'd never understand why Pamela was so fond of her.

Anyway, it was with Chris's arrival that the girl stopped lowly whining with Pamela about the total lack of single guys at their table. At the very first sight of the big guy, Jessica seemed to shut up for a while and such rarity immediately caught the attention of Rebecca who had been observing the stranger girl since they'd first met. Becky hadn't liked _at all_ the way she winked at Leon, nor how she lasciviously combed her hair while talking – _flirting_ – with him.

A rapacious, predatory expression rose on the busty girl's face. The sexed-up smirk confirmed that the chicken hawk had pinpointed her prey. And this was not good. No way.

"Sorry, guys." Chris shook his head. "We had to fucking cross two state lines to find a spot!" The tall boy apologized as he waved at his friends in his typical warm manner and, pulling Claire by the hand a little closer, he added "…and my girl here thinks she needs hours to get ready to go out."

Oh, had he really said that? How curious! Had he called her _his girl_ in front of everybody? Oh, yeah. He had. And he'd be called a liar if he said he didn't utterly love it. Yes, his girl. He loved treating her like his girl, he loved calling her his girl just as much as he loved her. That night he was taking their old play to a whole new level. Not only weren't they forced inside the screens of their phones nor in the ambivalent walls of their house anymore, but their forbidden game was even brought outside it, to be played publicly.

That game had never been that dangerous.

He was so lost in his love that he didn't even acknowledge that he had to be fucking grateful that everyone simply mistook his moment of thoughtlessness for sarcasm. His sister included.

"Sorry if I wanted to look pretty tonight!" Claire mockingly reposted, faking an offended pout, even if she was simply happy to see Chris being the same old funny dumbass. She hadn't seen him that laid-back and cheerful in a long time and she'd missed this self of him so bad.

"You always do look beautiful…" _…baby_. Chris almost bit his tongue. That was close! To call her his girl was even almost alright, but to call her _baby_… He couldn't call her like that. _Baby_ was their pet name, the sweet word they called each other while getting intimate or making love… he shouldn't – and couldn't – use it in such a context! But he wanted it. His mind almost shrieked it inside his skull. He craved so bad to fucking scream out loud how damn much he loved her and how painfully she was killing him with her stunning body that night.

Kevin enthusiastically introduced them to Pamela and, sighing, he bluntly waved in Jessica's direction who lost no time in stepping onwards, enlivened by the words "…and his _sister_, Claire". She and her abundant cleavage were kinda introduced by themselves, coming off obnoxious and haughty but Kevin didn't expect any less from her. Despite all her efforts in making an impression on Chris, Jessica was going to be downright invisible to his eyes. He barely acknowledged her presence as inebriated as he was of Claire's scent, that filled his nostrils and mind, trumping the frowzy air of the overcrowded bar.

Being the guys habitual customers, the young bartenders knew well that they were all underage for drinking, so Chris's warm and deep voice and mature appearance would've been to no avail to procure them some beers. So alcohol-free night was! And that explains why Piers was missing! The dude was surely getting bombed somewhere else.

Notwithstanding Jessica's presence and all those fruit juices, the night proceeded among general mirth and laughter. To recount bad and wacky stories about Kevin's past that Pamela _had absolutely to know_ was too fun not to have the time of their lives. As everyone was focused on listening to Carlos telling about that time Ryman pissed himself in sixth grade, Chris absently draped his hand over his sister's bare shoulder. Maybe Indian summer wasn't that warm after all, as he sensed her skin chilly under his touch. Out of instinct, out of love, he began to stroke it to gently warm her up. Inadvertedly, what had started as a simple thumbing evolved to become a real slight massage.

As she leaned in closer to listen better to Carlos's masterful storytelling and mimicking, her floral scent returned to tickle his nose and libido. The more he sucked it in, the more he got sucked into it, enchanted. Chris let the pleasant torpor her smooth skin enticed within him to cradle him into a peace of mind.

But a cold shower, icy like the eyes that casted the jet, came to brusquely reawaken him.

A short glance at the guy sitting across from him, was all it took Chris to notice that Leon's look was locked on that innocent touch that so much well-being was bestowing upon him.

Suddenly, all the worries rolled in and assaulted him back and that table soon became too narrow and the two biggest-snoopers-in-the-whole-world' faces too close. So close that the boy feared they could read right through his pupils all the hustle sloshing inside him.

It seemed to Chris to be hurled back into the walls of his house, with all that load of anxiety. But, if on one hand, those last days had undermined his serenity, on the other, he'd got skilled into dealing with it and, although he failed to annihilate the devastating effects it had on his mind, at least he'd reduced the collateral damages.

Alike he'd had to do many times in front of his parents when he feared he'd stared at Claire's ass for too long and too intensely, Chris took a grip on himself and returned to pretend to listen to Kevin's whines and Pamela's amused laughs, making absolutely no movements that could reveal he knew he had been caught.

Slowly, feigning a nonchalance he hadn't and taking advantage of a convulsing laugh of Claire, he slid his hand off her shoulder and down her back to take shelter from Kennedy's bothering and persistent look.

Now Leon had no more reasons to stare at him (and her), to judge him (and her), to unmask him (and her). Chris could relax again… if only now he hadn't the downright certainty that Claire was wearing absolutely no bra under that breath-stopping dress.

The big boy could only hope that the turned-on heat plastered all over his face wasn't too evident.

* * *

Sitting on the wall-long, olive green couch across from the two siblings, whilst everyone was still cracking up in a loud guffaw, Leon hid his serious pout into his glass, trying to gulp down some bitter thoughts along with that liquid "_ew_" of a juice.

Never ever again grapefruit. It tastes like rancid fuel and turns your tongue into a rag of sandpaper.

But the juice was the lesser of his concerns right then. A mute, implicit exchange of short-lived looks had spoken volumes about Leon's and Chris's own inner thoughts and dynamics going on between them. Even though their communication was the farthest from being honest. Not that Leon hadn't tried to but Chris wasn't prone to share his secret ever in life. The younger boy was aware that there was some "_unseizable_" something regarding Chris that kept slipping his ken. He suspected there was more than the incredible story of the body swap messing with his best friend's sanity but he'd never get to know it as long as Chris was an unpierceable wall of discretion.

Nevertheless, if heat radiations can escape fucking black holes, involuntary details escaped Chris's obsessive control.

Chris could hide his hand as much as he liked but the message had been delivered by then. Straight at the recipient's face.

_"Steer clear from my sister."_

Leon was more than certain _that _was the meaning behind Chris's demeanour. His whole body language was all about constantly reaffirming to everyone on that bar to stay away from Claire if they didn't want to risk that his big hand – so delicate upon her – would painfully smash onto their mouths, scattering cracked teeth and breaking jaws all around.

Leon also knew that Chris had caught him staring with judgemental eyes under furrowed brows what, for both, was anything but a normal, meaningless act of affection. To Chris it was a way to feel under his palm the skin he was so hungry of and appease his appetite, while waiting to slither underneath it with his rocky manhood and possess her in some squalid alley later that same night, whereas to Leon it was just stupid possessiveness and a passive-aggressive way to underline it.

But Leon's frown went beyond those trite considerations.

It wasn't only – simply – a matter of jealousy towards a guy who had proved – but never overtly admitted – he had some interest in his sister. Leon could bear Chris's bullshit under that point of view and shake it off easily. There was something more worrying him.

Sitting right beside Chris there was a girl who, although not being the brightest crayon in the box in terms of composure and elegance, was surely to be considered a deadass knockout. And it just so happened that she was bending over backwards to be noticed by the buff guy. She was all winks, smiles, squeezing boobs and rubs on him anytime she overly hee-hawed but he did nothing. Nothing! He didn't seem to even see her.

It wasn't like Chris. He'd always had a knack on spotting good lays and seizing what the day had to offer. Even though, lately, he hadn't been like that too often.

Leon had been a real jackass in putting so much hope in that girl the very moment Kevin had introduced her. The blond's smile with which he had returned the stranger's "_Hi, handsome!_" only got him a dirty look from Rebecca – to which he deftly remedied with a pair of passionate French kisses – but it was never satisfied.

What the hell does a friend have to do to remind Chris he has a hell of a dick between his legs?

Leon downed another long sip and almost envied Piers who had preferred to go hitting the bottle in some gay bar with more flexible policies before joining them. At Jack Bar Leon couldn't even try to get Chris bombed. Alcohol had proved to have some effect on his… relational apathy a week before during the drinking game. The kiss the big guy had smacked onto Jill's mouth had been something!

In the following days Leon had tried to question his friend about what his angle with the pretty Valentine was, cherishing in his heart the hope that Chris had simply fallen in love with the girl while he'd had to pretend to be Claire. _Maybe _that little accident Becky had recounted to him on their way home from the Redfield's back on Tuesday, had only complicated things between them two, and Chris was willing to put it right. Chris may have been amoral with his very first girlfriend Sherry but sure as hell one couldn't say Chris loved promiscuity when it came to serious relationships. Monogamy and loyalty would've been some perfect words in his calling card. And girls loved this trait of him, his complete faithfulness and devotion made them all feel special even if it was nothing more than a summer-long romance destined to be forgotten by Christmas. A lovestruck Chris was the perfectly fitting explanation in his recent total lack of interest in girls. When he was in love with a girl, all the rest of the female fauna simply faded away from his sight.

But the tone in which Chris had confessed to him that he feared he had somehow deluded Jill had been more than enough to crash even that hypothesis.

So, Chris wasn't in love, even though he looked like it. And he was immune to female's appeal, even though he'd always been a sucker for girls. So... what the hell had happened to him? The more Leon reasoned, the more that riddle seemed to be unsolvable.

Was it... was it ever possible that... No. No, Leon utterly refused to believe that a bunch of weeks inside a girl's body could've downright fucked up Chris's mind.

Sexuality doesn't work that way! It goes beyond it, it does not fucking depend on the body you're in! Right? Right!

Still... what if shit like hormones or neutrinos or fucking devil machines had left some kind of mark in him? After all he (and, oh God, Claire too) had been through a hell of a traumatic experience! What if not everything had returned back in its place? Yeah, maybe sexuality is not affected by the gender of your body but who says that a body swap cannot change it? Though, nobody has ever experienced such a thing, therefore, if on one hand nobody can confute it, nobody can either affirm it. What if his surreal theory was true and Claire had been changed too and now she wasn't any more interested in guys? Then he'd never ge-… Leon cursed himself. He was really going off at a tangent now!

_Oh, fuck off!_

Leon remembered he was in that bar to have some fun, do Kevin a favour and spend some time with Rebecca. He had plenty of reasons to not give a shit about Chris's issues – that, to be fair, were none of his business in the end, he couldn't and shouldn't care less.

But he had _one_ reason to do otherwise.

A reason that trumped any other.

That big hand, so oppressively glued upon Claire's shoulder was still too vividly impressed on his mind. Chris was suffocating her. Leon was sure about that.

Alike he was sure that Claire would've minimized and told him that she was trying to give her brother as much support as she could to let him heal.

_Fuck. Off._

Shaking his head, Leon took his glass under the tabletop and extracted the only memory of his Dad he didn't want to get rid of: a flat whiskey flask Leon carried in his leather jacket's inner pocket.

_Fuck off. He'll ruin her life._

Leon poured an abundant part of it into his glass – Tennessee celebrated whiskey couldn't certainly worsen his drink any more.

* * *

**Part 3 – _Codes n'Roses_**

That was a couples' night. One was spoilt for choice for how many different kinds were available. Newly formed couples, more veteran ones, secret couples and couples that had absolutely not to ever happen. Among all of them though, one couple in particular, without being conscious of that, seemed to be made for each other for how much chemistry there was between them.

The girl, with her unbridled passion for portmanteaux, had renamed themselves _Rebeleon _and she was so proud of how cool and badass it sounded that she almost proposed the other half to print it on a shirt and go around with matching outfits – hadn't it been such a stupid, Sheva-like thing to do. Anyway, Rebeleon was a helluva nickname for two partners-in-secret-missions, lovers and friends like them!

That night, Rebeleon, as the skilled observers they were, didn't miss to notice some dynamics. Unfortunately, although really well-knit, they still weren't on the same wavelength.

If Leon had put so many hopes in Jessica and wished that Chris took the opportunity with both hands and finally remembered he was a man and other girls besides his sister existed, Rebecca instead was riled. Beside Chris ought to have been sitting Jill! Maybe Chris wouldn't have looked at her either (and sure Jill wouldn't have given him the time of day) but at least the overall decency would've benefitted.

Rebecca missed none of their interactions (if they could be called like that). She knew she had to be ready to intervene as soon as the stranger would've started to have some chances to be boned by Chris – after all, that's what the girl was asking for, pretentiously! Rebecca also knew that she should've paid some more attention to Leon but, apparently, he was enjoying his drink so much that he wasn't complaining about the decrease of her cares. She took mental note to pack some bottles of grapefruit juice for him as a surprise gift.

Moreover, Leon was totally by her side about the not-yet-love affair officially named "code: Valentine". Both hoped for a happy ending, out of affection towards their respective friends. Differently from Leon though, Rebecca was ready to act as the good best friend she was.

As soon as the conversation regarding football seemed to stabilize, Rebecca asked Claire to carry her to the bathroom, conveying the utmost importance of their meeting with a little kick straight to her friend's shin.

No, she was definitely not wanting to play footsie! That was an emergency! Claire couldn't refuse!

To Leon's greatest satisfaction, the two girls stood up and briefly excused themselves. Oh, Rebecca had had a tremendous idea, the boy thought. So Chris could get the chance to look around and take note of the sea of pussy that surrounded him, whilst Claire… she'd have been freed from his obsession for a while.

* * *

"Claire, we got a _code Jessic-hoe_!" Rebecca stated as soon as the ladies' restroom's door shut closed.

"A what?" Claire chuckled, remindful of Becky's passion for spy movies.

Rebecca crossed her arms and gave her a dirty look through squinted eyes as to warn her not to play dumb with her. That _Sherawho_ was too much… "_too much_" to believe that Claire hadn't noticed how desperately she was trying to hook up with her brother. Before Claire's dismissive smile, Rebecca huffed and whined. "Oh, but why did Pamela even bring her? Jesus, does she need a babysitter at her age?"

"Oh, c'mon, B!" Claire said. "Pamela had no clue of what to expect, maybe she just feared she'd feel alone…"

"But there's Kevin! Her bo-y-friend!" Rebecca reposted, clapping her hands rhythmically.

"Yeah but… you know, we're all kinda friends…"

"We gotta keep an eye on her…" Rebecca continued, ignoring Claire's attempt to justify the unjustifiable. "…and terminate the threat before Chris capitulates."

"Capitulates? _Terminate_?!" Claire gushed, widening her eyes while she strived to hold back a belly laugh. "Do you listen to yourself when you talk? You sound like the Godfather!"

Rebecca snorted and looked away. Mob's ways began to appeal to her suddenly. Yeah, a pair of concrete shoes would've suited Jessica so well.

"Anyway, whatcha ever do?! Alright, she's a… she's a little _exuberant_…" Claire shrugged and ignored her friend's scoffing huff at that last word. "She's not harassing him or something. And believe me, Chris gets harassed _a lot_!" Claire laughed, remindful of times like at Carlos's party when she had to dodge girls as it rained. "Jessica's doing nothing bad."

"NOTHING BAD?!" Rebecca squealed. She immediately put herself together before all customers and waiters would hear her curse. "Nothing bad my ass! She is motherfucking flirting with Chris! We gotta intervene before that cosmic pussy magnet of _your_ brother would bang her right over there!" Rebecca yelled, accusingly pointing a finger towards a bathroom stall with so much determination that even the ceramic toilet somehow felt guilty for whatsoever.

"Oh, you're tripping right now!" Claire said, with a confidence that was mistaken as an attempt to minimize Becky's concern. But Claire, unlike Rebecca, knew that if there was a girl in that bar that risked being fucked by Chris in that microscopic bathroom it was surely her. No one else.

"Claire." Rebecca solemnly uttered. "As friends we have the supreme duty to keep Jill's boyfriend away from all the hookers out there!"

"_Hookers_?!" Claire almost choked on her own laugh. "Becca! Where's your feminism gone?!"

"I sent it on vacation the very moment the bitch in a tube skirt winked at Leon the first time." Rebecca bluntly replied planting a fist on her hip, not withdrawing from her combatant tone.

"Oh, now it makes sense! Someone's jealous here!" Claire winked.

"Oh stop it." Rebecca snorted. "You know I don't work that way."

Claire sat on the washbasin cabinet and adjusted the loose neck of her dress around her naked shoulder. "Jill would've already killed you if you called Chris her boyfriend in her presence!" She laughed.

"Maybe you're right, but it won't be like that for so long."

"What do you mean?"

Claire's perplexity didn't bother to hide from her face. After Tuesday's outburst, in fact, Jill had become even sharper in her rejection towards Chris. She didn't even want to hear his name being spelled. Not even by mistake. She even hardly tolerated "_your brother_". At the bus stop she'd always turn away as soon as Claire and Chris appeared in the distance and, if they ever were to come across each other in the school's hallways, she'd always give him a cold shoulder, colder than the ice in her grey eyes. Chris's looks at the cafeteria had become total taboo. And if this last thing had some welcomed advantages for Claire, the red-haired really failed to imagine how her dearest friend would've overcome the trauma.

Because it _was_ a trauma.

Claire felt so tremendously guilty for that. She should've managed the whole thing better. She could've avoided reminding her of the scrub accident in the first place. She should've talked with Chris before and prepared him to deal with the necessary and inevitable confrontation – and hopefully avoid those shitty replies of him.

She could've been a better friend.

"Oh, it's just a matter of time, trust me." Rebecca replied.

"Dunno…" Claire murmured. "She seems still too upset."

"Oh, it'll pass." Rebecca shrugged. "And when she'll let it go, Chris will surely be ready for a romance again!"

"What makes you think so?"

"He can't stay single forever! Sooner or later he will feel like having a girl, right?" Rebecca replied convincingly. "Do I have to remind you that before the switch crap Chris was definitely _reaaally _into girls?"

"You're right but…"

"And he's still one of the most wanted boys in the school!" Rebecca mumbled, trailing off. In hindsight, Chris wasn't only to be protected from Jessica, but also from all the _Sherawhores_ – dang, Chambers! Watch your tongue! – out there. "Fuck, Jill. Just make it snappy!" She sighed under her breath.

"But you can't force him to feel something for Jill…" Claire muttered, saddening.

"Unfortunately I can't control minds…" Rebecca joked. "But I suggested that he keeps it friendly, you know?" The girl continued, possessed by her wild, passionate enthusiasm. "Think about it! To an emotionally retarded chick like Jill, a fuck buddy is the perfect solution!" She evilly laughed and pirouetted in the small room, rubbing her hands as to foretaste a victory she was never to get. "Yes! Yesss! They'll start with sex but a tender big bear like him will surely fall in love, I can bet my life on it!"

Rebecca couldn't know nor guess it, but her words had triggered a time bomb.

Claire hardly curbed a gasp. A sense of inner alarm almost got to shush her but, with a mere whisper, Claire managed to ask what was obsessing her. "And what did he answer?"

No way Claire would've accepted that eyeroll as an answer!

Her big, round, blue eyes insistently questioned Rebecca until she stopped snorting in scorn. "Oh, he just said that he doesn't want to _give her false hope_. Whatever that means." The brunette said, badly imitating Chris's gruff voice. "No offense, but your bro is a retard. He only has to give her some of his dick! Tsk! _False hope_!" She snickered, certain that Claire would've joined her in such hilarity. But it didn't happen.

Claire was pensive, she looked almost worried. Claire was slowly sinking into obscurity. What did that sentence mean? And why suddenly her chest was aching? Was panic striking back? Had Rebecca just revealed her some obscure truth they both ignored? Had she just caught a cold? She ought to have listened to her mother and worn a scarf.

Well, actually, Rebecca thought, there wasn't that much to make fun of. Chris had seemed to be fairly sad when they had talked in the kitchen on Tuesday. Something was making him suffer in all that.

Rebecca leaned against the cabinet as well and sighed. "Something must be fucking him up, I feel it." _Rebeck _mumbled and before she could acknowledge it, she was saying it aloud, sure that Claire wanted to figure it out like her. Oh, Miss Chambers, you couldn't be any more wrong! And you better shut up because you're almost causing a blast. "It's like he would even make a move on Jill but something is holding him back..."

Too late.

The fuse had been lighted.

Claire zoned out. Rebecca didn't know all the truth, she had no idea Jill wasn't in Chris's thoughts – even lesser in his heart – but what if she was unawares right? What if Chris really wanted to be with other girls, to return _normal_, but she was the reason holding him back? What if she had got him caged into something that was only hurting him? God, was it possible that she couldn't see his sorrow?

_You bad girl! You only care about yourself!_

Reality was blurring away from her sight and earshot. Surely it already had in her mind. Darkness was approaching, she could almost hear the clangour of its vanguard trumpets in the form of her friend's voice.

"Do you know if he's seeing anyone?" Rebecca asked, determined not to let the pity for Claire's saddening face stop her.

"What?" Claire barely whispered, uncertain whether someone had talked or not.

"C'mon! No straight guy under ninety-years-old would remain indifferent before a wet and naked Jill!" Rebecca winked, full of pride for her friend's breath-stopping body. "If Chris isn't interested in someone like Jill, especially after that helluva shower, it can only mean someone else's already on his mind!"

Alike Leon, Rebecca was right in her intuition but completely wrong in the meaning of it and totally oblivious of the truth behind it. And she may have just delivered the final blow in Claire's stomach.

"…"

Rebecca sucked in a gasp of awe. "Oh my… Gawd!" She gasped, almost running out of air. "Who is she?!"

Someone, somewhere, must've loved Claire for exactly that moment, Sheva entered the bathroom, giving the red-haired the perfect excuse to dodge the question. Temporarily.

"She who?" Sheva bluntly asked, unable to conceal the boredom that had assaulted her that night.

"Oh, the girl whom Chris is in love with!" Rebecca exclaimed, still shocked but happy to have a new pair of ears to worry with her zealous alacrity.

"He's… not… in love…" Claire fumbled as the ache in her chest became sharper and began to bite her cardia threatening to make her spit all the orange juice she'd sipped so far.

_He can't ever be. Not as long as I... keep him..._

Claire leapt down the cabinet and turned, more to cling to its edge and hide her face from her friends' eyes than to actually wash her hands like she was doing on autopilot. Her head was spinning, her stomach twitching, her heart maddening.

Hadn't she been so sure about what she'd ordered and what she'd drunk, she could suspect someone had spiked her drink at her back.

Maybe with some poison.

Maybe she was going to die.

She was surely gon'… _STOP!_

Claire wringed her eyelids and shook her head. Sheva's and Rebecca's voices who, in the meantime were basking in bad mouthing about the girl with the improbable name, faded away completely. They were replaced by the dreadful pounding of her own heartbeats. Claire had to appeal to all her strengths to suppress a panic attack without them to notice.

_Not now Claire._

She had to calm down before she'd start sweating cold and shiver, before her trembling would've gotten her collapsed on the floor on weak knees.

_Fight it._

Like a tribal drumming chasing her, the pounding rose. Why were the walls phagocytizing her?

_Dammit, fight it!_

Her lungs' loyalty defaulted. She couldn't gasp for air, not with the girls around. She needed a grip.

_Fight it for Chris! _

She managed to take a longer breath.

_Do it for him, Claire._

Oh, another breath! it was working, miraculously.

_Don't get him worried. He looks so fine tonight._

It was like gulping down a bolus of acid but, somehow, she got to repress her malaise. With a slow fade-in, alike her sight returned clear, the voices returned to colour her world too.

"…you mean that double d's in a mini skirt?" Sheva prickly said. "She tried a move on _my_ Carlos, you know?"

"No way!"

"I made sure she knows who's the boss round here." Sheva snapped her fingers in the air to underline all her bossiness. "Carlos's got _one_ bitch, gurl! And it's me!"

"Totally with you honey, but she kinda targeted Chris right now." Rebecca whined, sinking back in her frustration after the jaw-dropping disconcert.

"Oh, she doesn't stand a chance with him!" Sheva dismissively shrugged, turning her attention to the nearby mirror to check her lipstick.

"I hope so!" Rebecca sighed.

"Take it easy, he's not even watching her. That guy is made of stone!"

Claire needed a moment to breathe. She had managed to avert the worst, but she still felt bad. She needed to shift her mood, perhaps a change in the subject would've done her good. "How come you're here, Sheva? Isn't Carlos needing your tentacles around him?" she mocked, feigning an amusement she hadn't.

Sheva stuck her tongue out. Rebecca chuckled into her palm.

"By the way, we can't mass-desert the table!" Claire mumbled.

"Easy, Sis. They won't even notice we're missing." Sheva said, sighing in utter boredom. "As Piers arrived, they all set to have a darts tournament!"

"Well, we must go then!" Rebecca exhorted. "We can't let boys believe they stand a chance in darts!"

"Well said, B!" Claire unconvincingly agreed. Anything to leave that suffocating small bathroom as soon as possible. Those walls seemed to begin again to crash onto her and she didn't want to be there when the roof would come down to squeeze her… like a sandwich!

* * *

The tournament had hardly started and they were already arguing over the score.

"Since when do you think you know how to count, Kennedy?"

"Since my grades are better than yours, Oliveira."

"Big talk coming from an tenth-grader! When you'll be a Senior like me we'll discuss it again, Mr Sixteen and ignorant!"

"Whoa, whoa, hold your horses, girls!" Piers intervened, stumbling a little on his feet. "No catfights allowed when His Majesty's singing!" He said, pointing a finger to the roof and closing his eyes in a delighted expression, dancing to Axl Rose's falsetto.

"Hell yeah!" Carlos hollered. "_Paradise City's_ the best!"

"Shut up, Macho Man!" Kevin yelled, while looping an arm around Pam's neck and fiddling with the dart in his hand. "Nothing tops _Knocking on Heaven's Door_!"

"Please! That's not even theirs! Covers don't count!" Pamela scoffed and everyone but her boyfriend looked at her in awe. "What? I love'em!"

"Then which do you think is the best Guns' song?" Piers cautiously asked, squinting his eyes in expectation of a good answer.

"It's simple. Everything before 1991." Pamela shrugged. "_November Rain_ only exception, of course."

Piers howled in excitement and addressed Kevin. "Wow! Hey, Buddy, she's a keeper!"

Carlos couldn't tolerate it. Sure, Pamela hadn't disagreed with him, but Paradise City, guys! C'mooon! "Hey, Steroids!" He shouted, calling for Chris who was standing in the distance by their table – useless to say, with Jessica planted before him – just to guard it from a pair of pre-teens who seemed to have set their sights on those empty seats. "What's Guns' best song?"

Chris pulled a face at his friends and stated what to him was the obvious. "It's _Rocket Queen_. What else?"

"Good choice, Hot Stuff." Rebecca said remerging from the restroom and, at the sight of the insisting girl, she turned to Sheva and snarled under her breath. "Though _Back off bitch_ fits better tonight."

Following them on the heels, Claire exited the restroom and stopped for a moment beside the counter. Half hidden by the gramophone, she glanced at Chris.

His gaze was bored, and he nodded more out of good manners than of real interest towards Jessica's insisting attentions who, standing on her toes, tried to come as closer as she could to his wide, brawny chest.

Sheva was right, Chris was totally unimpressed by the beautiful girl. He was just looking on Jessica, and it was evident that he was only waiting for…

…her.

Chris raised his look and he saw _her_. And his face brightened with the most enticing smile. One of those smiles able to resurrect the fucking dead from their graves but that, by a chance, didn't send Claire straight to the cemetery before her time.

His smile was stabbing her. Every one of his white teeth bit her sore heart.

And her faint smile was the most painful of her life.

Suddenly, a veil fell off her eyes.

She was robbing Chris of happiness. That same happiness he was pouring into his lovely smile. It was authentic but wrong.

That happiness wouldn't last long. It wasn't meant to. Rebecca was right, sooner or later Chris would've wanted someone to love by his side, a real love story. But he'd have never ever noticed it until she kept being the centre of his thoughts and, most importantly, his desires.

Her heart lost a beat. She'd felt so uneasy when he'd made her feel so used back on Tuesday night (and often in the following nights as well) but she was doing just the same to him. Oh, no! She was doing even worse! She was caging him, like a bear at the circus. Any time, she'd use him as it suited her the most, for an all private show, and then she'd pull him by the chain her own body was, back into his jail.

A confused expression rose onto the boy's visage, progressively smothering his bright smile.

_Claire?_

Noticing Chris wasn't even looking at her anymore, Jessica turned her head to glance over her shoulder at whoever decided to interpose between her and her target for the night.

_Oh, yeah, the sister. Ugh, what a bore of a guy!_

"Hey, Jess! C'mere! It's our turn!" Pamela shouted, from somewhere in the crowd.

"Yeah." Jessica bluntly sighed in resignation and, to remind the big dumb guy _what_ he was missing out, she added "me and my sweet ass are on the way!"

Had someone talked? Chris couldn't tell. He only knew he was beckoning at Claire to come on over in his arms.

"You alright?" he murmured into her ear, lowering his big head onto her as soon as she was safe in his embrace.

"Yeah."

"You look so pale, baby." He susurrated, rubbing her bare shoulder.

"I'm fine don't worry."

Chris's raised eyebrow wasn't believing her that much.

"It's just… there are so many people…" she lied. "That's it."

It wasn't just that. She was anything but serene. Had Chris read her mind, he'd have immediately fled away with her, before the irreparable occurred. But he was too much into enjoying his deserved liberty, his social hour of freedom from anxieties and the fear to lose her to realize how his very fears were lurking in the darkness rising in her.

"Wanna go home?" he asked, looking around in the crowded room that simply ignored them and their concerns.

"No, I'm fine, really." She soothed. The last thing she wanted was to ruin the night. After those last days in which she'd had to endure his grievous jitters, unreal precautions, mood ups and downs, forcefully silent sex, she needed that spare night as well. And she was confused and… uncertain whether she wanted to go home and be alone with her confusion.

His eyebrow returned in place. Chris figured out Claire must've just had some hard times in the restroom, as usual. But her calm tone and the girls' plain faces appeased him.

Chris held her tighter on his chest and rested his chin on her crown, smiling. He began to cradle her, then to slightly sway on his feet, as if he was dancing a slow ballad. As if _Sweet Child o'Mine _was actually a ballad! Chris softly hummed the song against her ear, still paying attention not to hold her too intimately for such a packed room.

"…_I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain…_" He sang low, and unawares he got pain to rose in her closed eyes for it was the farthest romantic he could get in that situation without getting anyone to wrinkle their noses.

"I feel so good tonight." He whispered when Axl's notes became too high for his gruff voice. "I wish it'll never end…"

_My love…_

In his arms, Claire felt sorry for him, for herself, for stealing her brother the chance to have what every couple around them had: the right not to have to hide.

* * *

**Part 4 – In the cold November rain**

Saint Martin's summer never saw the next week's start.

The day after the night at Jack Bar was a good Monday of rain that caught pretty everyone off guard. Everyone had got soon so used to nice weather that only a few had an umbrella to open by the bus stop, returning from school.

Chris and Claire sought shelter under their coats the best they could while running towards home under a rain that thickened with every step. When they finally stepped onto the front porch of their home, it was bucketing down.

"Motherfucking climate change!" Chris snarled, eyes upcasted to the plumbeous sky.

"Yeah, I'm drenched!" Claire bemoaned.

The rain was hammering the blue slate tiles above their heads with violence, and the cobblestone path soon began to resemble a shallow creek, its sides clogging with fallen leaves piled there by the stream.

Whilst fumbling for the keys in her bag, Claire looked around and breathed in deeply, filling her lungs with the sharp odour of petrichor. She prayed the weather wouldn't replicate the awful tempest that had pounded the City around Halloween days. She'd already to spend the whole previous night up, unable to rest because of her guilty, self-blaming, terrified thoughts, now she'd really spare herself a new wave of thunders-and-lightnings panic assault!

As soon as they got in, the girl lost no time in throwing her keys and bag onto the narrow counter in the entryway and ran upstairs to dry up before she'd get a cold or a headache because of her wet clothes and hair. Moreover, the hairdryer buzz might've smothered the thunders' shrieks…

Chris carefully wiped the drops fallen onto the wooden tiles and announced his mother they were home.

Lily's delightful voice he expected to hear never resounded in the muffled rumble of the outside rain.

"Mom?" Chris called, glancing at the living room and then peering at the dining room, but there was no trace of his mother.

Instead of her, he found a yellow note stuck onto the fridge.

_I'm at Aunt Serena's. Riley's got her first colic (heart). I'll be home around dinner time WITH dinner. Mexican tonight. Yummy! Mom_

Chris had barely the time to read the night's menu idea that his feet were already gracelessly dashing towards the stairs.

* * *

With only her lacey underwear on, Claire tamponed her ponytail with a towel. It was way drier than she expected and she was going to put the unused hairdryer away when the bathroom door was thrusted open making her jolt in fright.

With beastly impetus and inflamed grin, Chris abruptly rolled in, grabbed her by her hips, tilted her up and shoved her onto his shoulder like a sac of potatoes. It was like witnessing the reenact of a prehistoric wedding.

"Chris!" Claire squealed, suddenly finding herself almost upside-down. "The fuck you doing?"

"You and me. In the closet. Now!" Chris hollered, kicking Girly Room's door open and breaking into it with virile ardour.

"Chris, no… wait. Put me down!" Claire yelped striving to shift upright or, at least, to wiggle in her brother's steady grip.

"Don't fret, baby. Mom's not home." He said, pushing the pearl strings aside and stepping into Claire's walk-in closet, not before having flicked the pink neon lights' switch on. "We're alone!"

Home alone. What a dream come fucking true!

Last night, her headache had kept them parted and he'd had to settle for a good old wank to her photos in the loneliness of his Cave. But today... today they had free rein.

Claire's feet only touched the ground again when Chris put her down into the closet, right opposite the wall-wide mirror. Before she could attempt to renovate her request to please stop, his fleshy lips were one with hers. He held her head with both hands and kissed her so tenderly that Claire's knees almost turned weak.

Now, Chris wasn't the guy to kiss a girl keeping his eyes open. Definitely not. Recently, though, he'd had to start opening them every now and then to check their surroundings and to be sure he wasn't completely detaching from reality when getting lost in her, just to make sure no one was coming around. On that afternoon, instead, he was keeping his eyes wide open for a whole different purpose.

To watch his reflection kiss Claire's in the mirror.

Yeah, sometimes dreams come true.

But Chris Redfield had so many more dreams to make come true! Having no idea when he'll ever get a parents-free house, he was determined to accomplish every single one of them that afternoon. No exceptions.

When he felt satisfied with that first long kiss, Chris peeled his moist lips off her mouth. Claire was still too breathless to seize the chance to use her anew free tongue to speak. With one swift movement, Chris got rid of his humid shirt and carelessly threw it away somewhere behind him and already he was assaulting her cherry mouth. In less than no time, without ever breaking their labial touch, Chris completely undressed, his boxer-briefs being the last piece of clothing to slide to the other side of the closet. Only when all his skin was exposed, in the dense pink feeble lighting, he stopped. He took her head in his manly hands again and smiled.

"You have no idea how long I dreamt of this…" He susurrated, gruff and soft in his baritone voice. The beastly drive had given way to a loving and romantic man – aside from turned on. "How many nights I dreamt of you right here… and you were so close I could touch you and so far away I couldn't have you…"

"Chris…" Claire sighed as she uselessly tried to resist the temptation to devour with her blue eyes every inch of his bare skin, every cleft in his shape outlined by those dark, plum and orange shadows.

Sweetly, his hands glided down her cheeks to her chilly shoulders, still too chilly from the rain, and they made her turn so both would be facing the mirror. The siblings indulged in observing their alter egos in the glass for a while. In the back, _him_, big, tall, thick, sculptured, masculine. In the front, _her_, dainty, soft, sinuous, sensual. All around them there was a warm, cosy dusk, that submerged their bodies in a play of colours casted by those yellow light points on the ceiling and the pink neon letters. And the storm outside didn't get to rumble its noise inside that dense atmosphere. It was like returning into the womb.

Claire's lower lip shook as to try to speak but the feeling of Chris's hot mouth on her collarbone made her suck it in and nibble it.

She didn't see anything but, as soon as she felt the hook unclip and her bra slacken, her hands moved on their own and dove into the wet short strands of Chris's head, by then sunk into her neck.

The time of a shaky sigh and they were making love in front of the mirror.

Chris had told her he'd desired it for so long. Claire instead was certain she'd never ever even imagined something even slightly similar to it. Neither, perhaps, was she able to conceive something this erotic. Who knows which fantasies had inflamed Chris's nights when he had only her body available to fight his loneliness. And who knows how many times he had replayed them in that closet. Sure, his mind must've flown high in those nights based on those bizarre but hands-down arousing things they were practicing right then.

An unfulfilled desire had stuck onto him and Claire clearly read the victorious gaze on his face while, slightly bent over onto her, from behind her, he almost seemed to want to fuse with her and their other selves in the mirror as he let his member glide between her thighs pressed together, delightfully tickling her clitoris. The tip of his superb manhood peaked in and out at the rhythm of their passion.

His fingers dipped into the flesh of her hips and, using it as handlebars, he attracted her towards his, after positioning himself at her entrance. Claire could barely stand on her feet. The feeling of him penetrating her from behind in a perfect angle was intoxicating, it weakened her muscles, made her flesh shiver, stole her consciousness, took her breath away, strangling moans in her throat. But she managed to stand until his shaft was wholly engulfed by her. Only when he had finally completely impaled her and every inch of his most effulgent passion was buried into her, her legs almost sagged and Claire bent forward, finding the only handhold in the glassy surface of the mirror.

Unawares, she had just realized one of his main fantasies.

Claire didn't know what to look at anymore: if at his contracted pectorals, his flexed abs, his tensed quadriceps, her dangling breasts, his flaming eyes, his parted lips or at her flushed and swollen ones.

Sure, she knew what to listen to. Chris's by then usual hard breathing lost itself in an ocean of moans, screams, squeals, skin hitting skin, Chris invoking her name roaring, herself replying shouting his on top of her lungs.

Oh, how she'd missed to scream!

Chris was on fire.

He had never fucked her that ardently, that hardly. The lion had been unleashed after that long, mind-wearing imprisonment and, finally, he was showing her what truly means to be loved by Christopher Redfield. He'd devastate her.

Not without a pinch of cockiness, Chris let go her hips and glided his hands down, between her thighs and, with a grunt that seeped confidence from every pore, he lifted her again, this time inserting his frame between her spread thighs. Oh, how damn he loved her gasp of surprise! She wasn't expecting to be suddenly shifted and tilted horizontally, with her bare hands stuck onto the glass to keep herself lifted.

As he sensed her surer and more stable in the new position, Chris set the pace to a fast but steady pounding. The high-paced slapping sound mixed with some of the most desperate squeals he'd ever heard her do. She was loving it, he was sure of it. Alike he was loving everything, every sound they made, every shock wave that shook their flesh, but above all he loved her. On that day he finally could love her without restrictions, without bridles, without precautions.

"Claire." He panted as he slowed down and put her back on her feet. "Here, I wanna see your face…"

He'd had enough of the mirror, of their reflections. Now he wanted her, the real Claire. Soon, her back was glued to the glass while her legs were wrapped around his waist. And he couldn't touch her enough, palpate her enough, knead her breasts enough, nibble her neck enough, suck her tongue enough. Their breaths became harder, shallower, their movements evermore desperate, even Chris's pounding was more and more irregular albeit it was increasing in power. They were close.

"Claire." Chris roared.

She replied with a breathy moan.

"Claire, Claire, Claire!" Chris urged, digging his fingers into her hard buttocks.

"Chris…" She whined.

"I love you, Claire!" Chris said, biting her earlobe. "I love you, I love you, I love you!" He couldn't stop repeating. "I love you madly!"

Had his penis turned into a dagger all of a sudden? Because in that very moment it was like it began cutting her into thin shreds of bloody meat from the inside out. It hurt so bad, it hit so hard, that her orgasm was almost completely deadened by that sharp truth roared through her ears right to her heart.

But she came, it couldn't erase all that arousal. She dug her nails into his shoulder blades and stiffened in his grip. But she didn't invoke his name like she used to do.

Chris resisted until he felt her tremble no more and only then he pulled out of her and spilled his release onto the glass with a long, grunted, victorious sequence of roars.

Although his muscles were still numbed by the strain and the orgasm, after a brief moment of immobility against the mirror, Chris took a step back and, keeping her heated body firmly enveloped around his bust, he returned to watch at their reflection.

How beautiful they were! What a dream!

He felt her heart beating in unison with his own, maddening. His big hands trailed through the expanse of her back, caressing her skin, counting every vertebra, every rib. They were both panting. His heart overflew with pure male pride for how hard he had fucked her. She was panting so hard that her torso was twitching as though she was…

A quiet whimper hit his ear.

Tilting his head back the more he could, he tried to look at her face, but uselessly. It was hidden, buried into his sweaty neck. She could hide it, but she couldn't curb her rising sobs, that left absolutely no room for doubts.

Claire was crying.

"Hey, baby…" Chris whispered, kneeling on the spot. "Hey, love…"

He sat on his ankles and let her sit on his thighs and caressed her nape as now her sobs had grown unrestrained. Chris was in the throes of his worst thoughts. But Claire wouldn't peel her face off his neck. Had he really gotten his lover to fucking cry after the sex? Maybe… oh, God… _because of_ the sex?

Chris cradled her a little, sinking in the fear that he had done wrong to her.

_God, have I… have I forced her?_

His heart rate didn't allude to slow down, instead it now pounded harder, in a terrified waiting.

"Claire, baby… please…" He whimpered in her ear, defencelessly. "You're killing me."

Those words got some effect on her. Sniffling, Claire's head pulled back from her hot nest. Her flushed face was moist with his sweat, her own and her tears. And when she got to raise her look into his, his blood almost froze.

_Goddammit! I hurt her!_

Chris felt a hideous person. She had clearly asked him to stop, why hadn't he listened to her? He had been so fucking hasty!

"Baby, did I… Did I made you feel forced?" He softly whispered, in utmost concern. "Forgive me if I did, I didn't mean to!"

Claire shook her head no and sniffled. Chris wasn't sure he should've felt relieved and, by the way, he didn't.

"Then why are you…" He trailed off, too scared to finish his question.

Claire looked down, at their bodies joined, at their nudities so stuck together. His chiselled lower abdomen glued to her womb, last memory of the more intimate conjunction they had just had. "You didn't force me, Chris…" She wheezed in a wet voice. "…and that's the problem."

Chris affectionately kissed her cheek while metabolizing those cryptical words. What did she mean?

Claire bit her lip and awkwardly cleared her throat trying to find anything that would instil her the courage she needed. And she found it in the sorrowful but ingenuous look of him. She had to be brave now, for him. Because he was a big bear unable to realize he needed a real woman in his life and not a forbidden lover.

"Chris, I… I think we should take a break from this." She muttered, glancing down at their connected body parts just to state clear what she was talking about.

If there ever was a perfect moment for a dramatic thunder to resound, it was that one. But if it ringed or not, nobody noticed. Chris stared at her with indecipherable dark eyes for a long moment before gritting his teeth and looking away from her apologizing face.

"Chris…" Claire wheezed, reaching up to cup his clenched jaw but he was faster in gently putting her down, off his lap and onto the floor, definitively parting their bodies.

He turned on his knees, grabbed his still wet shirt and leaned back onwards, towards her, past her, not even looking at her directly and with it, he wiped the sperm dripping down the glass. The funny sound of clean glass blurred into Claire's sob.

Without uttering a single word, he stood up, collected all his scattered clothes and left.

He left his lover sitting on the ground, naked, sweaty, ashamed, crying.

Claire could only embrace herself to shield her bare chest from the rising chillness around her, but nothing she could do against the terrible awareness that weighed on her like a mountain.

She was scared she had just lost her brother.

* * *

**END OF THE SECOND ACT**


End file.
